Heart of the Maiden: (Lords of the Deep Hells Book 3)

by Paul Yoder

  “What a relief you’re with us again,” he reiterated, his smile and wet eyes proving his sincerity.

  She tried to sit up, struggling slightly as weakness still remained in her limbs, asking, “You say it’s been days? How long have I been sleeping?”

  Nomad helped her sit upright, explaining, “Three days. You had begun to worry the physicians—as well as your friends. Even with knowing how resilient your spirit is, three days is a long time to slumber.”

  Her eyebrows raised, remembering why she had gone unconscious in the first place. “What of Terra? Is she alright? I did the best I could with the healing, but without Isis’ ring…”

  “She’s…had a rough recovery, but she is alive. Without your quick response, the wound would have killed her within seconds. The bolt had torn her heart open. She’s weak, but in better condition now than the first or second day. Today was the first day she was allowed visitors. I checked up on her with Hathos just a few hours ago.”

  She thought over the news, whispering, “I wasn’t able to complete her healing. Perhaps in a day or two—”

  “—you focus on yourself for now. The physicians are doing a good job of taking care of her,” he said, easing her conscience.

  She looked to Nomad. That he was fretting over her, it was clear.

  “How long have you stayed with me?”

  “I’ve taken a few breaks here and there, but mostly the whole time. Everyone’s come to see you a few times. Everyone that stayed behind that is,” he replied.

  “Stayed behind?” she asked, not sure who Nomad was referring to.

  “General Bannon led most in the army back home to Sheaf. He left a very small attachment, mostly Hyperium leaders, to watch out for you and Terra. Cavok, Arie, Fin, and…Yozo…stayed behind as well. Though, Cavok and Fin just left to hike some mountains nearby—Arie went with them as a guide as she knows the mountains better than they do, and to keep them out of trouble. Fin said it was to visit the grave of a friend of theirs.”

  “Wait, we’re still in Brigganden?” she incredulously asked, confused as to why they were still in the hostile city.

  “The Judges threw out all the decrees and laws the priests had made once they learned of the arisen’s downfall. There were few priests of any standing left after Terra’s display of judgment. Thankfully, the judges and people took Terra’s power with Elendium as a sign and cast out all remaining false priests from their walls.

  “They offered to see to you and Terra’s treatment in recompense of what transpired in the streets. Bannon left our small detachment just in case further issues arose. So far they’ve been nothing but hospitable.”

  She let the past few day’s events sink in, thinking upon those that had stayed behind, just for her and Terra to ensure their safety, thinking upon Nomad who had stayed at her bedside through the worst of it.

  “Help me to the window,” she ordered, Nomad quickly moving to help, seeing that she was going to attempt the journey with or without his aid.

  She was weak, her strength not fully there, as was usual after exerting her power of healing, but the cool stone floor felt good on her warm, tired feet, the slight breeze of the desert sky drafting in, ruffling her sleeping garments as they made it to the windowsill.

  Looking out brought the sweet smell of desert bloom, the dim torchlight of the sleepy city setting a low glow along the scene before them, but not bright enough to subtract from the beautiful vista of the Imhotez mountains in the background and the stars and sky beyond.

  There were a few people out in the streets still. Nomad had heard and seen many celebrations the nights earlier now that the restrictive laws had been torn up.

  Tonight was quieter, but the distant songs of merry gatherings along the celebration street could gently be heard from the high window of the magistrate’s court where the doctor’s medical wing was located.

  “I was past this life’s gates, Reza. How did you bring me back? I feel…as though I was not meant to return this time. But when I felt your presence, reaching for me—” Nomad left off, still not sure how he felt about the event.

  “I…know. I did not know what I was doing. Isis’ ring, the life sap, I drew upon all aether at my disposal, and then some. I am not sure if I should have been where we were. That place—I get the feeling that one should not return from that threshold. I wonder if anyone else has. What might the consequences be for those who see beyond the veil?” She paused, considering her open-ended question.

  “You were gone, and I brought life back into you, somehow finding your soul from the other side and coaxing you back to me, here, in Una. Perhaps it was selfish of me.”

  Nomad looked to Reza, and she looked to him, as if awaiting an answer to her question.

  He looked away into town, whispering, “Perhaps…but that doesn’t make it an unwanted gift. The other side was peaceful, expansive, different. It’s not a place to fear, I see now. But,” he said, looking to her with a smile, “you went to a great deal of trouble to return me here, so here I will stay a few years longer—with you.”

  She leaned into him, not out of weakness, but to be closer to the man she had come to love—to need—and with the way he had embraced her earlier, it was clear that he felt the same way for her.

  They had, through time, realized that without one another, neither of their lives would be complete.

  Embracing her, they kissed, their soft lips feeling each other passionately, sweetly, tears of both joy and sorrow over the past year’s tragedies, trials, and victories coming out, their romance playing out in a dark room high above the city that was still healing from the same evil that had ironically brought the two together in the first place.

  48

  Burying Old Grudges and Regrets

  “Green tea and whatever the special is today,” Nomad said to the waiter at the little outdoor restaurant close to the judicial district, having seen to both Reza and Terra’s needs that morning.

  It was midday and having skipped breakfast, he was happy to have found a promising eatery that lured him there with tempting smells lingering from a street away.

  “No green tea here. We have red tea, wild dagga and chai rooibos. We have a rack of lamb on the spit, fresh with cherry tomatoes, asparagus, chives with a basil baste, buttered naan with kefir—” the man announced, Nomad cutting him short with a wave of his hand.

  “Sounds lovely. I’ll have that,” he said, agreeing to the suggestion.

  “That’ll be four silver strips,” the waiter replied, Nomad handing over four small silver metal strips from his change purse. Cinching the pouch back up, he kicked his feet up on the other chair at the small table as the waiter went to get his order ready.

  The day was a quiet one uptown where he was visiting, most of the busyness happening down in the market district where the crowds were. He had the sitting area out under the vine-covered lattice all to himself, the shade from the naturally covered patio awning keeping him cool in the gentle breeze that flowed through the cozy shop’s dining area.

  He sat there, eyes closed, head back, enjoying the quiet moment, wonderful aromas wafting out of the kitchen inside when he felt a presence by his side.

  Squinting an eye open to see who it was, he sat up, seeing Yozo looking down at him out in the heat of the sun.

  Nomad hesitated for a moment, surprised to see the man there, gently kicking the chair he had propped his feet up onto, offering him a seat.

  Yozo looked to the kitchen for a moment as if second guessing on coming to Nomad in the first place.

  After some hesitation, he took the chair and ducked under the hanging vines, sitting in the shade across from the man he once knew as Hiro.

  The two shared glances at each other for a few moments in silence before the waiter came back out and asked, “Anything I can get you?” to Yozo.

  Keeping his eyes on Nomad, he replied, “Green tea.”

  “We don’t serve green tea. We have red tea,” the waiter answered, ir
ritation slightly in his tone.

  Yozo looked at the man, giving him a face, asking blatantly, “What the hell is red tea?”

  “It’s a blend of wild dagga and chai rooibos, sweetened with honey—”

  “Fine, whatever. Red tea will do,” he replied, sitting back in the chair, waiting for the man to leave them.

  “One silver,” the waiter said, holding a hand out for the payment.

  “Let me,” Nomad said, adding once he saw Yozo about to protest. “You treated me to tea on the road in Jeenyre, after all.”

  Handing the man another silver, the waiter left the two men to gather the tea, the both of them settling back down to continue their staring match.

  “Something…has changed with you, Yozo. I’m not sure where we stand, though I have much I wish to say to you. I just…don’t know if you’d be in the mood to listen.”

  The waiter came to their table with a cast iron red teapot with two clay cups. Pouring both of them some vibrant red tea, he left the pot and cloth with the two, returning to the kitchen.

  Looking at the steaming earthenware, Yozo thought on his words a while before reaching for the tea, smelling its vapors, sipping a few drops to test the taste before idly replying, “Maybe someday. That doesn’t concern me like it once did.”

  He snapped a honeysuckle flower from the vines overhead, mumbling that the drink was bland, using it to stir the tea to cool it off faster, giving the flavorless tea more of a floral note.

  “I once very much cared about why you did what you did. These last few months have, as you said, changed me. Your friend Fin—his teacher, Matt—and many others, showed me a different way—a better way.

  “Once, you were the focus of everything to me. Your punishment for what destruction you had upon my life was my reason for carrying on through all the torment and pain….”

  Yozo sipped his tea now, letting his words sink in as Nomad sat there, contemplating the words spoken.

  “Now…things are different. It is ironic, those who you befriended reached out a hand to me, even after I rejected them so many times, they persisted. As I hounded you, I couldn’t escape those who thought the world of you—that would lay down their lives to protect and fight for you.

  “Fin once told me that the past is dead, history cannot be rewritten, and as I was chasing down memories of past phantoms, I only further enslaved myself to it, giving up all the beauty the present holds. We ourselves are the only ones that can relinquish the shackles of the past that holds us down.

  “I’m done focusing on you,” he casually said as he sipped from his tea, and where Nomad might have expected a tone of malice in the statement, he was surprised to hear peace in its place.

  “There are those here and now that I’ve come to appreciate, and those that appreciate me. Now is my season. I believe… I will focus on living my life for now. Perhaps there is some peace I can find here in the presence of those that saw something good in me, even when I had nothing but spite within my heart.”

  Nomad was left speechless, looking at his untouched tea, the waiter shuffling in the kitchen, coming with his platter of food.

  “That’s…all I had, Hiro,” Yozo ended, drinking the rest of the tea, leaving the flower in the earthen cup, walking off just as the waiter arrived with his meal.

  Nomad stared blankly at the flower in the cup before the waiter asked a second time, “Can I get you anything else?”

  “No…that’s fine,” he distantly replied as the waiter left, annoyed at once again having to repeat himself.

  Nomad picked up his cup, taking a sip of the red tea, considering Yozo’s words deeply.

  Yozo had been right. The tea was bland.

  49

  The Road Home

  The caravan moved slowly along, Hathos snapping the reins from time to time at the head of the carriage that held Terra comfortably inside. Kissa followed close behind riding their wagon full of their supplies, everyone else walking along beside the leisurely coach.

  Terra was up chatting to Reza far past her usual bedtime the physician had prescribed to her, the crew deciding to walk a bit into the night as the air was nice and cool, the weather being unusually pleasant to them the last few days.

  The coach’s curtains were rolled up, Terra looking out at her companions walking quietly along as Reza continued to attempt to coax her back to the large couch in the back she had been using as her personal bed, having fluffed it up with blankets and pillows to make it more comfy.

  “You think we’ll be making it to Viccarwood before we stop for the night?” Terra asked lazily, interrupting Reza’s argument for why she should be getting to sleep.

  Reza considered the likelihood of the question, replying in a tired tone, “More than likely, though you shouldn’t be up to see its lights. Go to bed, Terra. The doctor said you shouldn’t tax your heart more than is needed. Do me a favor and lie down. There’s nothing to see out there anyways.”

  Terra gave one last look out of the coach at the caravan of friends, looking at Nomad walking beside Yozo, neither talking to each other, but seeming to enjoy the stroll together. Cavok, as stoic as ever, walked alone ahead of Fin and Arie, who both seemed quite engaged in conversation with each other, snickering in the night at some private joke they kept between themselves.

  “You think Arie has a thing for that man with all the daggers? They’ve been talking a lot together this trip,” Terra asked, prodding into topics she knew she shouldn’t be.

  Reza wondered that herself.

  “Go to bed,” she answered, instead of indulging the frivolous gossip. Terra finally fluffed her bedding, looking as though she actually was ready to turn in this time as Reza opened the door, stepping out of the slow-moving carriage, closing the door behind her, hoping the girl actually listened to her this time.

  She approached Cavok. He had been through tough times, as they all had over the past months; but out of all of them, he seemed to be the most alone in his depressions. He often had shut others out, even during the highs. She knew with the lows he had gone through of late, he would be one of the slowest ones to mend, especially with Fin, his best friend, being torn between Yozo and Arie of late. Reza wondered how much longer he would stay with the group, seeming how the man could not stand Yozo and still having raw feelings towards Nomad. Without Terra there, whom he had grown rather close to, she wondered if he would soon drift on down the trail without them.

  “You want to ride in the carriage with Terra for a bit, Cavok? I’m sure she’d love your company,” Reza prodded the stern looking man as she matched his pace beside him, knowing he might very well need company more at that time than Terra needed extra rest, even after all her arguing with the girl to bed down for the night.

  “No. She needs her sleep,” he spoke in a matter-of-fact tone, continuing along.

  The night was quiet again save for the creak of wagon wheels and clop of hooves along the trail leading to the next town with the occasional chuckle from the two in the back falling slightly behind.

  “Cavok, have you…spoken to Nomad since the war? It wasn’t him that did those things to you in the dunes months back, it was Telenth.”

  The two looked at the swordsman far up ahead now out of earshot and Cavok answered readily without much thought, “I have not.”

  “You should,” she replied, knowing a rift had formed between the two since the many days he had to fend off the wild man in the desert months back—how large and serious the rift was, she was not certain of as the man had become more solitary than usual of late.

  “Perhaps we will have a talk,” he huffed in a tone that did little to put her at ease.

  She wanted to place a comforting hand on his arm, but his stiff posture seemed to announce his wanting to be left alone.

  She walked beside him instead, hoping her presence the rest of the walk ahead of them that night, would be enough to comfort his wounded soul in some way.

  50

  A Table of Remembrance and
Ambition

  “Friends,” Sultan Metus’ soft voice sounded, quieting the dining room, many there already displaying their bad table manners by starting to dish themselves food from the buffet along the center of the long mahogany table.

  “We break bread here together, one more time, and it warms my heart to look upon each of your faces, for things could have turned out much differently without the effort of all here around this table.”

  Cavok and Fin stopped serving themselves, seeing that Metus was wanting to have a serious speech, all else in the room already quiet as Metus paused for Fin and Cavok to follow suit.

  “We’ve lost many through recent years. Those who were close and dear to our hearts. Those whose spots will not be filled—who left an indelible impact on our lives.

  “We are grateful for their service and sacrifice. Let us honor them this night by enjoying each other’s company in their memory.”

  Metus held up his silver chalice, announcing, “To heroes!”

  “To heroes!” all others agreed, sharing in the cheers to those they loved—to those they lost.

  With that, the table of ten began the feast which had been prepared specially for them.

  There had been a celebration in the palace court days earlier that the group had just missed when Bannon had arrived home to Sheaf with the good news of the successful campaign waged against the arisen. It had been deemed a national holiday, and the whole city had enjoyed banquets hosted throughout many of the upper-class establishments.

  Food and drink had been borrowed from the city’s stores and merriment had been shared freely in the streets in celebration of the victory over such a dangerous foe that had plagued not only their lands, but other neighboring regions, a swell of national pride rightly bubbling those within the Plainstate.

  Having missed the festivities, Metus had made sure upon Reza’s arrival that a catered feast was prepared for her crew, knowing full well their pivotal role in fighting the agents of Telenth those past years.