“Be safe,” she whispered, and there was no mistaking the sheen of tears in her lovely blue-green eyes. She was wondering if he would come back to claim that kiss. I wondered the same thing. I wondered if any of us were going to return.
Ilgard and Norband were now approaching, and I knew it was time to mount. I’d already made my goodbyes, so I climbed into my saddle without further ado. Yet, while waiting for the two Simathe lords to do the same, my gaze was drawn to the figure of the Spinner Pronconcil darting amongst those left in the courtyard, searching anxiously, desperately for someone.
She found him.
Not caring who was watching or who might see, the beautiful Spinner ran straight into Garett’s arms, flinging herself against him in a tight embrace. I probably should have looked away but couldn’t, as the Ranetron High-Chief pulled her into a goodbye kiss that lifted her clear off her feet. When he finally set her down, it was only to wrap his arms about her waist and press her face into his shoulder. Kissing her temple, her cheek, her neck, he whispered encouraging, soothing things I couldn’t overhear. However, even from here I could see my friend was doing all she could not to surrender to grief.
At last, he brushed a soft kiss across the top of her head and, with an almost fierce expression, put her from him, turning to swing up into the saddle. His horse had scarcely managed two steps before he stopped. Instantly, Elisia was at his side, gazing up at the handsome soldier with all her heart in her eyes.
“I love you.”
I saw her lips move, creating the words.
In response he reached out, trailing his fingers gently down her cheek.
“And I, you.”
He then leaned down for another swift, hard kiss.
The Spinner’s tears came the moment he disappeared from view. Watching her, I hurt, unable to imagine what it must be like to send a loved one off to war, knowing there was a very real chance they’d never return. Rittean came over and placed an arm about the Spinner, who laid her head on the Moonkind girl’s shoulder, still crying. Together, the two women moved off slowly towards the palace. Although I wanted to help, there was really nothing I could do. I had to leave them to each other, which I did, moments later, as I rode out of Laytrii’s gates, headed once more for Treygon.
Rebellion
We rode hard for over two days, with only the barest rests for me, and reached Treygon a few hours after sunrise. Dismounting, I stumbled sleepily across the courtyard and into the fortress itself, making my way down familiar hallways and towards my old room. It was exactly the same as I’d left it a few months ago. A fire snapped cheerfully in the hearth; there was fresh water for washing and even a meal laid out. I probably should’ve eaten, but instead I simply kicked off my boots and slipped between the sheets. As I drifted off, I thought drowsily how strangely homelike this place felt. Not long ago, I would never have thought so, but now…
I slid peacefully into sleep.
Bright sunshine shining through the open window slanted across my floor and bed, lingering on my face. It was enough to wake me, even though I really hadn’t been out that long. Yawning, I propped myself up on my elbows, seriously considering falling back against the pillows for more rest.
“My lady?”
A gentle rap on my door disrupted that plan.
“Come in.”
I smiled at Ilgard as he entered, sitting up fully and finger-combing my hair out of my face.
“Good morning,” I greeted him, as he took a seat on the edge of my bed. “Or afternoon, I guess.”
He nodded distantly, but there was no warmth in his demeanor.
“Is something wrong?”
Rather than answer, he covered one of my hands with his own. Soberly, he said, “I wish you to remain here today.”
I gave a puzzled laugh. “Of course I’m staying here. What did you think—I followed you all the way to Treygon to up and leave without you?”
“Not Treygon.”
“Then…?”
He straightened. “Your chamber. Do not leave it.”
His face was deadly serious; his tone brooked no disagreements. This wasn’t a request. This was a command. And he hadn’t tried telling me what to do in a long time. My jaw dropped a little.
“What?”
“No arguments!” He got to his feet. “Simply do as I ask.”
I gaped at the door as it closed behind him for about two full seconds before throwing back the covers, muttering, “You didn’t ask me to do anything, you told me to do it. Get real, like I’m going to go for that.”
Tying back the wild mess that was my hair, I then straightened my wrinkled clothing on my way to the door. However, when I tried turning the heavy handle, it wouldn’t budge.
“What in the world?” I sputtered.
I tried tugging at it with both hands, thinking maybe it was stuck, but the thing refused to capitulate. Right away, I realized what’d happened: he had locked me in, for heaven’s sake!
I slapped the door angrily. “What is going on here?”
I felt like slapping the Simathe High-Chief. Instead, I did what an Artan does: tapped into my magic and used it to level the playing field. Opening the door required very little time or skill. In mere moments, the empty hallway loomed before me. Instantly, I saw there were no guards, which I thought was strange.
He locked me in but didn’t bother posting guards outside? Something’s definitely up…
I was determined to find out what it was.
Hesitating only long enough to pull on my boots, I slipped out. The entire place seemed silent and nearly deserted. A few Simathe, I knew, were remaining behind to keep Treygon, but the bulk of them had already merged with Aerisia’s main army, which was currently headed towards Shayle. Furthermore, some warriors were probably off on their own and could be anywhere.
I’d once asked Ilgard what such warriors did and on what sort of missions they were dispatched, but the only response I had gotten for my troubles was a flat “Treygon’s business is its own.” I’d been forced to settle for that reply, even though I remained curious about the matter. Still, who knew what the Simathe did, or why, besides themselves? Not me, and I’d probably spent more time among them than anyone else.
Now that I was free of my room, I was unsure where to go, especially since I had no idea where Ilgard might’ve went. I figured all of this must have something to do with Kan. Clearly, the Simathe leaders had more in mind than simply locking him up and leaving him here under guard. I wanted to discover what that might be.
I didn’t bother using a seeking probe against Ilgard, since I knew he’d pick up on it right away. I was hoping if I manually hunted him down, he might be distracted enough not to notice the fact that I’d left my room. Setting off, I went first to one of the war rooms, but it was empty. The dining hall was next then the personal sitting room off the High-Chief’s chambers. Nobody was in either place. Back in the main hall, I stood in indecision with my hands on hips, trying to decide whether I should head towards the men’s barracks or make for the tower where Ilgard and I had been Joined. Afraid I’d bump into someone if I went to the barracks, I turned instead towards the tower.
The stairs leading up towards the tower chamber were every bit as twisted and winding as I remembered. I did my best to make no noise as I ascended, being fully aware of the Simathe’s exceptional hearing capabilities, but any sounds I made seemed muffled by the thick stone walls pressing in around me. Nobody came out to challenge me, and I reached the top without incident.
Outside the tower door, I released the faintest of probes, which told me the door was firmly locked from the inside. Even though I was more than capable of opening this door, as I had my own, something held me back. The probe had also permitted me to sense the presence of several people inside, including the Simathe High-Chief, Chief Captain, Kan, and six or eight others.
All of this information had scarcely filtered into my brain and been processed before the probe picked up on another thing,
something so horrible it defied belief. What exactly it was, I didn’t know, but it filled me with an extraordinary amount of searing, racking pain. The sensations hit my body with the force of a hammer blow, racing through the probe and back again to me, slamming me physically against the wall. For a second, my throat closed off, and I couldn’t breathe. Only my eyes moved as I stared in dismay at that door, incapable of imagining what could possibly be happening within to cause such blatant misery.
For the longest time, there were no screams and no cries, even though the torture dragged on and on. As long as it lasted, the pain held me in place. I was a prisoner of my own magic, incapable of releasing myself from the anguish into which I’d tapped. Finally, as it ebbed then swelled a final time, I heard a long, low, twisted moan. Several more followed, each more pain-filled than the last. My entire body shook, as if the pain were coming from inside of me. As long as I could hear those cries from behind that closed door, I was held captive every bit as much as the person making them.
At long, long last they died away, grinding to a torturous halt. The magic released me with a violent snap that shook my frame. Finally, I could move and breathe, even though I felt my heart racing with the terror of what my magic had forced me to witness. At the sound of an opening door, I lifted a tear-stained face to see the form of an unknown Simathe filling the doorway. Our eyes met—mine doubtless filled with the horror of whatever had occurred and his so hard they appeared lifeless. Another warrior stepped up behind him. The next thing I knew, Ilgard was there, staring at me over his comrade’s shoulder.
Guilt washed over me. I knew what I’d done was wrong. He hadn’t necessarily left me in my room to conceal whatever they were doing from me. He’d left me there for my own protection. I should never have let my pride get the better of me. I shouldn’t have gone against him just to spite him. When he placed a hand on his subordinate’s shoulder, the other man stepped aside. The Simathe lord edged past and started coming towards me. Within, I began to panic but had too much pride to flee. Instead, I held my ground, feeling my throat constrict as I watched him descend the steps.
Punishment
I thought he’d stop and ask me what I was doing there, scold me, or possibly offer some explanation as to what was going on. I was mistaken. Instead, without saying a word or sparing a glance, he edged around me on the narrow steps and kept going. I was so stunned by his lack of regard that it took a few seconds for the slight to register. Then, spurred on either by curiosity, the horror of whatever my magic had let me witness, or perhaps even the shock of not being in trouble for my rebellion, I dashed down after him.
“Ilgard, wait!”
He kept going—shoulders straight, spine stiff, like a man about to undertake a difficult mission. I trembled to think what that might be.
“Please wait.”
I tried again, with no better success, except this time I’d caught up to him and put a hand on his shoulder.
“Please, Ilgard…”
Finally, whether due to my importunity or persistence, he stopped and turned to face me. I was shocked at the pitiless edge to his gaze but even more at the slight paling beneath his bronze skin.
“I bid you stay in your quarters.”
“I know you did, but I wanted to find out what was going on, and—” He didn’t look in the mood for longwinded explanations. Cutting myself short, I said quietly, “I’m sorry.”
A tight, curt nod. That was all. Then he was turning, heading back down the steps.
“Ilgard—”
Clearly, he wasn’t wanting to talk. That didn’t deter me, however. Whatever was happening around here, I was determined to know.
“Please, just stop and wait a minute,” I begged, catching him by the arm this time and holding him in place.
He froze but kept his back to me.
“What’s going on? Please tell me. I can’t not know.”
“What did you sense?” he ground out. “I felt your magic.”
“I… it was… I don’t know. The most awful thing I could imagine. Worse. Like a horrible, ripping pain or something. It left me cold. Shaking.”
“It was a Rending.”
“A-a Rending?” I’d never heard the term before, but I could guess at its meaning. “Like the opposite of a Joining?”
“Rather.”
“Kan?” I asked quietly.
He looked at me soberly and nodded.
I felt sick at the pit of my stomach. No wonder the horror, the pain, the terror I’d felt. If a Rending was anything like it sounded like, probably most, if not everything, that had made the man Simathe and linked him to his brothers had been stripped away. And if I had felt it, very likely they had too.
“Oh, Ilgard…”
I reached out to him, but, for the first time since we’d known each other, he recoiled from me. Hurt, I let my hand fall and actually edged backward a step up the stairwell. For a second, I was at a loss. Clearly, he didn’t want my sympathy. He didn’t look as though he wanted to stand here and chat, either.
“What happens now?” I asked before he could leave.
“Now? He is no longer Simathe, so he faces the penalty for treason.”
“Treason?”
The word set off warning bells in my brain. Treason was a capital offense in most societies. Unthinkable for a Simathe, but if Kan were truly no longer Simathe, did that mean…?
“Do not delve into questions better unanswered,” the Simathe lord said sternly, breaking into my train of thought as if he’d actually read my mind. “I do what I must.”
I was horrified. “You can’t mean it, Ilgard. You can’t do this to him.”
“I do what I must,” he repeated, and set off down the stairs.
Behind us, I could hear approaching footsteps and knew the other Simathe must be bringing Kan down. I didn’t think Ilgard would stop again, but I also couldn’t let this go. I went after him.
“Ilgard, you don’t have to do this. Not for my sake. Not for me.”
No reply. He marched faster, descending the steps so rapidly I was practically running down them to keep up.
“Do you hear me? I don’t want this. You don’t have to do this. Not for me. I know what he did was wrong, but you can lock him up, or do something else to punish him. You don’t have to—”
I was shocked to a standstill when he abruptly whirled on me, black fire in those alien eyes and wrath all over his normally composed features.
“Do not presume to give me orders. You are the Artan: you defend Aerisia. I am Treygon’s High-Chief: I rule my men.”
I drew a deep breath to calm my racing heart. “I know, but surely there’s some alternative to executing him…”
“Silence!” he snapped, slicing away my words with a fierce hand motion. “I’ll hear no more. If you cannot accept Treygon’s justice and my ruling, I am deaf to your voice.”
Dumbfounded, I stared at him, unsure what he was getting at. “Ilgard…”
“Go, my lady.” He swept a finger down the stairs, toward the general direction of my rooms. “Go.”
Angry, hurt, and too stupefied to do anything else, I did to him as he’d done to me earlier: edged around him on the steps and hurried down. I didn’t get far before my senses—or else bravery—returned, making me stop and turn back for a final question.
“Will you do it yourself?”
The lines in his face hardened fractionally. “I told you, I do what I must.”
Coldness swept me like a wave. “Ilgard, you don’t have to do th—”
“Enough!”
I froze, my mouth dropping open.
He’d just shouted at me.
And he wasn’t done yet.
“That is enough,” he repeated, advancing down the stairs. “Remove yourself, or follow me and observe, but my decision stands, and you’ll abide by it.”
In all the time we’d spent together, through all of the disagreements and disputes, this man with his perfect, icy calm had never raise
d his voice. He’d never spoken to me like this. I was actually frightened. I can’t deny it. Frightened enough that when he got close, I could no longer stand the wrath exuding from his entire being, so I turned and fled. Down the stairs, out of the stairwell...
Nevertheless, once out of sight, I hesitated, turning and waiting for a final look at the prisoner, the man I’d once considered a friend. He came into view moving slowly, almost shuffling along. He was flanked by a couple of his former comrades, so I couldn’t see much of him, but I could see enough to know he was clearly no longer what he’d once been. His proud head was bent, the deep, obsidian hair falling about his face leached of most of its color. What I could see of the skin on his hands and arms was no longer bronze but pale, wrinkled, even. His shoulders were stooped and rounded, as if with great age.
I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t stand knowing that the Simathe actually did have a vulnerability, one that could only be exploited by their own kind. I couldn’t stand knowing what was about to happen to Kan, or that Ilgard himself would be the one to do it. I fled the main hall, exchanging it for the privacy of my room. Once inside, I sank to the edge of my bed, wrapping my arms around myself, hunching over my belly as if that could numb the pain. I wanted to cry but was too numb. Instead, I began to shake and couldn’t stop.
Later, how much later I don’t know, but later a rap on my door was followed by the door opening. It was the Simathe Chief Captain, and he wasted no time waiting for an answer but walked right in and over to where I sat huddled on the floor, a blanket from the bed wrapped around my shoulders.
“Ready to ride?”
“What?” The question caught me off guard, and my mind spun to catch up.
“For the Largese; to catch a tideracer. You’ve forgotten?”
The look he swept over my unmade bed and the few, scattered possessions I’d brought with me shouted his disapproval of my untidiness. I’d been through enough that day. I didn’t need him or his condescending attitude right now.
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