Four

by Archer Kay Leah

  Tash gripped Mayr's arms. "Mayr, no. I'm sorry. I misunderstood. Please don't let your thoughts stray to the worst. She's alive. Hold onto that hope. Go back to before I interrupted you. Tell me about when things were happy."

  Happy? Had his relationship with Betta ever been truly happy? Could Betta have been miserable and he too blind to see it?

  "I fell in love," Mayr started. "Twelve years ago. Betta was the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen. She said she was the daughter of a miller several villages over, but she ran business in ours. Said she needed to be on her own, away from her family. At the time, I was just a regular soldier." Shrugging, he traced the shape of Tash's fingers with his fingertip. "I married her two years later. At least I thought I did. She was everything to me. Several months later, she gave birth to Iliane, this perfect little bundle…" He held his hands apart, recalling how small Iliane had been. "This big. I could cradle her on my forearm. She used to fight going to sleep. She wanted to see everything. So beautiful. I couldn't have been happier."

  Mayr dropped his hands. "Four months later, I came home from the estate to find the baby gone. Betta sent her away. Told me she'd tried and tried, but she couldn't handle it. She said that with me working all the time, I didn't understand the struggles of being a mother. She'd accepted we weren't ready to be parents and sent Iliane to live with Betta's aunt."

  "Without talking to you?"

  "There was more, too." Mayr snorted. "Behind my back, people questioned Iliane's parentage. They'd seen Betta with another man. I only found out because one night a group of us were in the tavern, enjoying ourselves. Next thing I know, there's this drunk talking to me about Betta. How she's cunning and asking for trouble, sleeping with his brother and sending his kid off while make-believing our marriage. He then tells me the priest who'd conducted our marriage rite wasn't a priest. He was a friend of his brother's, paid to pretend to be a priest. It wasn't sanctified in the eyes of the Goddesses and certainly not sacred to Betta. She just wanted to make it look like it was so she could use me—my money, my reputation, my influence. She wanted to be able to get out of it even more easily. If we weren't really married, she wouldn't have to do much to break it off completely."

  Tash sucked in a breath.

  "Yeah, exactly. I could've killed her."

  "Did you leave her?"

  "Didn't have the chance. By the time I got home, she was gone. I walked in and everything was everywhere. A complete mess. Betta grabbed what she could carry, took my horse, and disappeared. A girl at the tavern had overheard us and told Betta she'd been discovered."

  "Have you heard from her since?" Tash frowned. "Did you look for her?"

  The short laugh Mayr let out was bitter. "Oh, I looked. For Betta and Iliane. Couldn't find either. The aunt doesn't seem to exist. There's nothing to say the family she spoke of actually exists, either. Nothing but lies." He crossed his arms. "Aeley found Betta once, though she's never told me how or where. She refuses to. But according to Ae, she broke Betta's nose, blackened both eyes, and threatened to take a knife to her hair. I got a message from Betta a day later. Only one word—'sorry'—and the ring I gave her when we got married." Mayr scowled. "I don't count it as an apology. Ae beat it out of her, so it's just as fake as everything else. And now there's a little girl I don't know but wish I did. Mine or not, I haven't stopped caring. From the moment Betta told me she was pregnant, a part of my heart belonged to Iliane. It can't be returned."

  "And if you saw Betta now?"

  "I don't know, but I'd never hurt her. Ae never should've done what she did. It's one of the only things we can't agree on. One of the only times I've yelled at Ae and meant every word. I nearly arrested her for it. Korre intervened and dealt with it, though. I wouldn't talk to her for days."

  "So you still love Betta."

  "A little. Since then, it's been one disappointment after another. It's not that no other woman measures up, but apparently I don't. I'm good to exploit but that's it."

  "That's a falsehood," Tash argued.

  "No more or less true than you choosing casual relationships because you say love doesn't agree with you."

  Tash's narrowed eyes suggested Mayr's words were a poor hit.

  "You know I'm right."

  "I'd rather not discuss it." Tash raked a hand through his hair. "Besides, I have one last truth and we're done."

  Again, Tash avoided discussing what Mayr suspected he needed to. One day, Mayr would refuse him the chance and demand to know. They could both be stubborn. They both could fight for what they wanted. It was a matter of not backing down.

  "Go ahead, then," Mayr said. "The last one."

  "I'm terrified."

  "What?"

  "The Uldana Trials—I'm terrified of them." Tash swallowed uneasily. "None of my mentors know. Sister Kee would have a fit if she knew I wasn't walking into them with fearless faith. All of them believe I'm ready. More than I do."

  Prepared to tell Tash he would be fine, Mayr opened his mouth.

  Seeing the look in Tash's eyes, Mayr snapped his mouth shut. Once more, the questionable expression that twisted Mayr's gut filled Tash's gaze. He had thought it was about Tash admitting his past. The anxious glance suggested there was more.

  That's it. I can't take it anymore. He said I'm not running him off, but something is. He's practically got one foot out the door. But these questions haven't made sense, not if he's leaving. For believing in honesty, he's not getting it right. While he's not lying, I don't see him tripping over himself trying to tell me, either. Just stalling. So we're settling this. Now.

  "What aren't you telling me?" Mayr searched Tash's eyes, part of him praying Tash would just confess. Part of him wanted to hear nothing at all.

  "Mayr…"

  "You're holding back. You did it all yesterday, and you're doing it now. You said I wasn't running you off, but you never said you weren't running. I thought about it, you know, all those ways to interpret things. I realized that's another way to say you're leaving."

  And there it was: the truth, shining in Tash's eyes.

  Tash picked at the sheets. "I've wanted to tell you the last two days," he murmured, "but I didn't know how. There wasn't a good time. These days with your family—I didn't want to ruin anything."

  Mayr studied Tash's face. What could he say? Because here you are proving me wrong and rewarding my doubts. Why did I follow you down the path of denial when I knew what it was? Of course you'd do this after I told you how I feel after my previous relationships. I've done it again. Of course I did. Even if I knew it wasn't permanent, I was hoping it would last longer. I'm such an idiot. Agree to casual, but I can't help but start making it into something more. Even when I knew you were going to leave. Even when I was just in it for sleeping with you.

  "Is it someone else?" He had to know. At least this time, it would not hurt as much. In lust with a casual lover was nothing like being in love.

  "No. I haven't even thought of anyone else while we've been together." Tash's face went lax as though he realized the reason for the question. "Mayr, no. No. I'm not leaving you for anyone else. It's the Uldana Trials. They're starting in six days." He sighed and flicked his gaze to the ceiling. "The priests announced it was time for me to do them. Fate's decision revealed itself only a couple days ago. Signs from the Four told the priests I must take the Trials now. It's my time, so I must make the journey. I'm not permitted to get out of them without a truly good reason."

  The pointed stare Tash pinned on Mayr was not lost on him, just ignored. Nothing good could come of it.

  "Then that's it." Mayr swept his hand between them. "This is where we have to end?"

  "In terms of intimacy, I think it's for the best. I have to prepare for the Trials. Afterward, should I succeed, I can't have you. Not like this." Tash drew his palms down Mayr's shoulders. "But I don't want us to never talk again. I want us to remain friends. I'd still like to see you and spend time together. I just can't touch you."

 
"Then what was all that stuff about—" Clamping his mouth shut, Mayr choked back the rest of the argument. After all the talk about taking their relationship slowly, it was pointless. Even though Tash knew he was ending it, he had still acted as if there was a chance they would continue. What other purpose could telling secrets serve if not to build their relationship? Did Tash realize he sounded more contradictory than sensible? That he led Mayr in one direction while speaking of another? Were priests not supposed to be consistent and steadfast in their conviction?

  Perhaps Tash would fail his Trials, simply because he could not overcome the contradictions. If I could be so lucky. Not that he'd come back to me, but still. I could hope. No, forget that. Hope's how I got here to begin with. I need to stuff all that worthless hope into a box and light it on fire. It keeps getting me into trouble.

  For the moment, though, hope would have to wait for its burial. There was a breakup to finish. At least this time, he was neither shocked nor betrayed.

  If anything, it saddened him.

  "Tell me about them, the Trials." Hands on his raised knees, Mayr held back from touching Tash. He would rather remember the way they were before sharing their secrets. How he yearned for Tash's grip and desire. The safety he felt in Tash's arms, believing Tash understood him. "You said they start in six days. What happens then?"

  In an instant, Tash looked crestfallen; miserable like he had the night before on the porch steps.

  The next moment, a sad smile claimed his lips. His eyes appeared no happier despite the cheerful tone of his voice. "There are four. The first tests physical stamina in Hastal's honour and protectiveness. It requires a pilgrimage to the Shatterlands. The candidate must go to the sea, then to where the red sands turn into amber and black stone, where the earth shook and split in three long ago. There, a shard of amber glass must be retrieved and brought home."

  A trip—it sounded harmless enough. The journey could even be pleasant, if the rumours Mayr had heard about the extraordinary beauty of the Shatterlands were true. "The second?"

  "A test of knowledge and commitment under duress, demanding the memorization of a particularly sacred tome passed down from the Four themselves and a special focus on duties. A tribute to Laytia."

  As if you haven't studied enough, already. Mayr bit back a laugh. While he should not make light of the Trials, they sounded less of a challenge than Tash made them seem. "The third?"

  Tash drew a quick breath. "Tests faith and emotional strength to serve Navara. It is a confession: an admission. It is the confrontation and release of darkness to take on the weight and blessing of light."

  Mayr's brow furrowed at the description. More priest talk. Sometimes he had no idea what Tash meant. But given the nervous look on Tash's face, Mayr did not push the matter. If Tash wanted Mayr to understand, he would say it in clearer terms. Or maybe he could not say it. Priests were not required to explain their ways.

  "And the last, the fourth? What happens then?"

  "Devotion is judged," Tash answered quietly. "It is a true test of the spirit. A chance to stand face to face with the Four and declare oneself worthy. It requires deep faith, clear mind, and an open heart with love so deep, Emeraliss welcomes us with joy."

  All things Tash had, Mayr realized, disappointed. The first two trials sounded easy. The third was questionable, though how difficult could it truly be?

  The fourth was terrifying. To stand before the Goddesses was like a mortifying nightmare chased by a reality of horror.

  Still, he did not doubt Tash would pass the Trials, and easily. Mayr would lose him for sure.

  "There's just one thing." Mayr licked his lips and pulled further into himself as Tash caressed his knee. "Why are you doing them at all? Why would you want to? From the way you've talked about it, being a Rese-level priest has been a good life. Why give that up?"

  Tash fussed with the corners of the pillowcases. "I need to. I cannot explain it. Being a Rese has been good. I've enjoyed working outside of the Temple, helping people get through their daily lives. I've never minded helping to repair things or raise barns and then bless them. I've never complained about carrying things for the villagers and blessing their homes and places of livelihood. I'll happily work with my hands, attend their meals, cleanse their lives, and do whatever they need."

  He stared hard at Mayr, his lips in a thin line. "Being an Uldana is more than that. I'd like to conduct rites—marriages, children's blessings, funerals, all of them. Even do the oracle readings. I'd like to bear witness to important events. As an Uldana, I would have more influence over things in Kattal. I can advise the republic leaders on matters of peace, justice, and moralities to better serve Kattal's people. I will also be taken in as a member of the Sacred Assembly, the exalted believers in charge of the temples and spiritual leadership. It is an honour to be accepted by them, respected for my suggestions and other contributions."

  "And that's what you want? For them to pat you on the back so you can tell people what to do?"

  "It's more than that." A sigh followed. "I need to do it. Surely you understand how that feels." Tash touched Mayr's shoulder but recoiled just as quickly. "I'm sorry for telling you like this, and here. I shouldn't have. I should have waited another day."

  Mayr pushed up from the bed. Why should he care? Fair warning had been given.

  Then why did it bother him?

  "It's fine." Mayr grabbed his pants and put them on. "You said it wouldn't last. It was just supposed to be a bit of fun, right? A matter of curiosity. I'd say I've discovered exactly what I needed to."

  Tash swung his legs over the side of the mattress. "Mayr."

  "No, it's fine, really." Rummaging through the small black sack stuffed with his clothes and other personal effects, Mayr seized his hairbrush. He yanked the brush through his tangled hair, tugging his scalp. Each painful jerk poked holes in the anger threading together the rest of his emotions. Anger he should not have.

  "Give it over." Tash grunted and held out his hand. "I can't stand watching you do that."

  With a raised brow and scowl in protest, Mayr surrendered the brush. He spun around the creaky wooden chair at the dressing table and sat, staring into the dusty, smudged mirror. Arms wrapped around the back of the chair, Mayr said nothing as Tash brushed his hair with steady strokes. When Tash's fingertips massaged his scalp, Mayr closed his eyes and gave into the soothing touch.

  "I know so many women who'd kill to have hair like yours," Tash murmured. He coiled smoothed strands around his fingers. "One of the things I'll miss." Leaning down, he nuzzled the skin behind Mayr's ear and breathed deep. "It's beautiful, like the rest of you."

  Mayr shivered, hoping the warm lips would travel down his neck.

  They parted from him instead as Tash started to plait Mayr's hair. Near the end of the braid, Tash stopped and stood still long enough for Mayr to be worried. Cautiously, Mayr opened his eyes.

  Tash gazed at Mayr from the reflection of the mirror, his expression undecipherable except for the sadness. Always the sadness.

  "If things were different. If I'd never…" Tash sighed and drew a finger down the back of Mayr's neck. "I wish this could be different."

  Then just change your mind. Say no to the Trials. It's ridiculous to put you through them anyway. Can't the Goddesses and the priests see you're devout enough? What's getting a piece of rock, reading a book, and telling the truth going to get you? You can do those every day. Nothing has to change—nothing but your mind.

  Despite all the words he could have said, "Yeah, I know," was all that left his lips.

  Chapter Seven

  Aeley's lips twisted. "I hate highwaymen," she reiterated for the fourth time since walking into the training room, her grip firm around the wooden staff in her hand. She tapped the end of the staff on the floor. "I don't like knowing they're still out there, either."

  Mayr nodded, holding back a sigh. He was too tired for her rant. Of all the things on his mind, criminal activity was third; mayb
e even fourth or fifth. Since he had yet to get a decent night's sleep in eighteen days, it was difficult to keep track of priorities, especially when they changed daily. Except for the first two—they remained the same. His family always haunted the first spot, although Tash held that position as of late.

  "I really don't like thinking someone's bleeding to death after being attacked by said highwaymen." Aeley scrunched her nose in annoyance. "The witness swore they saw someone being beaten by those men. But no one was there, absolutely no one. Footprints and shredded fabric but no victim. No attackers. Where could they have gone that fast? None of the soldiers I took could find them. Well, I guess if they took the entire day, but even then the tracks ended in all directions."

  She spun the staff slowly in both hands. "Guess I could send some more soldiers on a sweep and see if they find anyone lying in the woods or along the road. I'd hate for anyone to die from neglect on my part." Aeley stopped spinning the staff. "Yeah, that's what I'll do. Thanks, Mayr. I'll just head over to the Guard House and grab a few of them. And I'll go myself. You can stay here. Keep an eye on the estate."

  "Don't take Pell. I need him." Mayr glanced across the brightly lit room to the opposite corner where Pellon stood before the racks of swords. "We're teaching the new guys how not to be stupid today."

  Aeley tossed the staff to him. "Sure. I won't get in your way. Just don't kill any of them, all right?" She stepped forward and leaned toward him, her voice lowered. "In case you haven't noticed, your mood lately hasn't exactly been anything nicer than acerbic. You still don't want to talk about it, do you?"

  Mayr snorted. What was there to talk about? Certainly nothing she could fix, not even as Tract Steward. "Just you mind your own business." He pointed at the open door leading into the dark hallway. "Better get to it if you don't want your victim bleeding out in some hole all day."

  "Fine, but if you eventually want to—"

  "Go!" Mayr lunged with the staff in both hands, sending her scampering back. Hissing, Aeley turned and hurried for the door, one hand on the short sword at her waist. As she disappeared into the hallway, Mayr stood the staff against the wall and sighed.