An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  He was limping now, walking ahead of her in the dark. That didn’t stop him from holding gates open for her, or warning her of extra steps where she might trip. They reached a fork in the corridor, and he spoke with the guard first before turning to her. “He’s in there. I will wait for you right here. Please be careful—I am told he could be violent.”

  The guard, hearing that, looked nervous.

  She took a deep breath and walked towards the hunched figure chained to the wall.

  “Ichi rok Sagar?”

  The figure stirred. It lunged.

  By instinct, she shielded the infant with her arms, but she didn’t move or look away. The bedraggled figure reached the end of his chain a foot from her, looked at her through the fringes of his matted hair, and laughed.

  “Two hundred and eighty-five days I called for you before I gave up,” he said. He stank of sweat and decay. “Give or take several, you must apologize if I’m not precise. The days overlap here, you see.”

  “You, there,” the prisoner continued, looking past her and at the prince. “You’re Rysaran. I would know you half-blind from across the sea. I helped your father keep his rump on the throne.”

  Rysaran looked perplexed. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

  “Bah! When did you royals ever care about peasants like me?” He tugged at the chains, as if surprised they were still there, before glancing at Sume. “And this? A half-grown girl and an infant? Is this your idea of a joke?”

  “She came here to see you, not I,” Rysaran said.

  The tattered figure looked surprised. “Not you,” he repeated. “Not to talk about the sorry state you’ve put these lands in. The Gasparians—”

  “I don’t know who told you what, sir. The Gasparians are no longer attacking.”

  “You mean they’ve taken a break,” the old man grinned.

  Rysaran scratched his jaw. “You’re probably right.”

  “Do you know why? Because if you don’t know why, then you are as hopeless a runt as I was told you were.” He spat to the side. “Let me out of here, and I can set things right like I used to. Your family has a funny way of showing gratitude.”

  Rysaran nodded. “I will consider your words. But I am not here for your grudges. This girl came here to see you. Sume alon gar Kaggawa.”

  “You don’t know me,” Sume broke in.

  Sagar looked at her and was silent for a moment. “I do, actually,” he said, his lips breaking into a different sort of smile, different from the sardonic one he had greeted Rysaran with. “But that doesn’t matter. What are you doing here?”

  His words surprised her. “What do you mean?”

  “I said it doesn’t matter. You’ve got your own child now, eh? Funny thing about time—they can beat you and starve you and make you feel like it’s stopped for you, but it never does. What do you want from me?”

  She glanced at Rysaran. “Your mother’s here. She told me you could help with my nephew. He…he has an ailment.”

  “Your nephew,” Sagar said. He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Oji’s son.”

  “…yes. How do you—”

  “An ailment, you say. The kind only I can treat. Not something my mother can. How is the old hag? Your boy has to be pretty ill for her to suddenly remember that I still exist somewhere in this world.”

  “To be honest, she looks a lot better than you right now.”

  “Bah! I’m not surprised. Witch like her will outlive us all.” Sagar tested his chains again, a habit he looked like he had acquired all those years. “Well then, girl. I can’t tell you much, sorry state as I am in now. Maybe you can talk to your prince over there, tell him to release me so I can help you. I can help him, too, if he’s not a fool.”

  Sagar blinked and tried to rub his nose with his hand. “Yours, though. Yours was smart enough, when he could think straight. Didn’t always, especially not when your mother was involved. I suppose even the best of us has got to have vices. How’s he doing?”

  She swallowed. “He’s been dead for over two years. A heart thing.”

  Sagar looked sombre for the first time. “I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, sounding for all the world like he meant it.

  Kefier had been pacing for so long he felt like his feet had dug furrows into the floor. When he heard the creak outside the door, he froze, and a hundred scenarios rushed into his head at once. They’ve found them, he thought, feeling his knees weaken. They were in the lake or worse. No, they haven’t found them yet, but…

  Narani gave him an offended look and stepped forward to slide the door open. Sume was standing outside with Kirosha. He tried to gather his thoughts, but the words left his mouth before he could stop them. “Where have you been?”

  His tone startled her. “Sang Narani knew I was trying to find her son.” She glanced at Narani. “Didn’t you tell him…?”

  “I’m too old for this,” Narani grunted, hobbling over to the window with her hands on her back. “You talk to the man. I think he’s incapable of hearing anything but his own voice when he’s angry at you.”

  Sume closed the door behind her. “Why are you upset? We’ve talked about this before.”

  “You were gone half the day. No one could tell me where you went, except someone who said he thought he saw you heading towards the lake. Fucking hell, woman, you took the baby with you! What was I supposed to think?”

  “She’s fine, you know.”

  “The heat—and the rain…and I’m surprised you didn’t bleed yourself dry prancing around all over the city…”

  “Sit down, Kefier,” Sume said. “Look, she’s not hurt at all.” She untied the knot around her waist and slid the infant into his arms. Kirosha gurgled at the motion and opened her eyes, Enosh’s eyes. A wave washed over Kefier. He had thought—was almost sure—that he’d lost her. He had never felt fear so tangible before.

  It took him several moments to realize that Sume was still standing there. “Did you find something, then?” He tried to keep his voice even. The last thing he wanted right now was another argument.

  “I did. Sang Narani, I found your son. He’s been in the royal dungeons these past few years.”

  Narani didn’t look surprised. “Probably caught working with the agan. I’m just amazed they haven’t executed him yet.” By her tone, she sounded like she didn’t care one way or another.

  “He’s your son. How could you say such a thing?” She turned to Kefier. “You don’t look like you’re listening to me at all. I found Sagar, Kefier. And he knows he might be able to help Dai, if he could but see him.”

  “So our new problem now is that they won’t let him go, unless…”

  Four slow, deliberate knocks sounded outside the door. Sume rose to answer it. Several guards were out in the main hall downstairs.

  “Miss Kaggawa?” one asked. “We brought you a guest.” They gestured. Ichi rok Sagar was standing behind them, all stench and filth. He was still in chains.

  His old mother wrinkled her nose and threw him a towel. “There’s a pump outside,” she said. “Go wash yourself before you scare half the spirits away from here.”

  Sagar grimaced. “It’s good to see you too, Mother.”

  “You’re no son of mine. You’re an alley mongrel.”

  “We’re supposed to watch him—” one of the guards said.

  “You can watch the house from the street. What’s he going to do, turn into a pigeon and fly away?” She cackled at her words. Catching Kefier’s eye, she grinned.

  “I think you’re just happy to see your son,” Kefier said, adjusting Rosha in his arms.

  “Why would I be happy to see the pathetic wretch? It looks like rats have birthed in his beard.”

  “I apologize, Mother,” Sagar said flatly. “I forgot to ask the guards to lend me a blade to cut it with. I didn’t know I was going to subject myself to your scrutiny.”

  “You always were a little daft.”

  One of the guards returned from the street. �
��Our superior allows us to grant your request. We will be right outside. Should anything happen to him up here, you will be held accountable.”

  “I’ve been held accountable for the whelp since he crawled out of my loins. I’ve gotten pretty sick of it, frankly,” Narani huffed. She glared at Sagar. “Well, what are you standing around there for? Off to the pump with you! I will get Dai. I lent him to the neighbour’s for a spell, thought it’d do him good. He’s still a lot less trouble than you ever were, you know that?”

  It took the better part of an hour to assemble everyone in the room. Sagar had been scrubbed, shaved, and fitted with a tunic borrowed from the landlord. Dai sat across him, his knees bent awkwardly. Sume exclaimed that it looked like he had never sat in his life, before falling silent, reprimanded by a glance from Sagar.

  “They tell me you didn’t remember your name when you woke up,” Sagar said while he fiddled with herbs drenched in a basin. He took a candle and dripped wax into the water. “But you know enough to know that it isn’t Dai.”

  “They call me that,” the boy said, fidgeting. “Maybe they’re correct. They’re good people.”

  “I want you to tell me what you really think.”

  He glanced at Sume. She nodded. “It’s all right. I won’t be angry.”

  “I think…that I remember, now. My name, I mean. It’s…I think it’s Myar.”

  “Where are you from, Myar?”

  The boy’s face tightened. “I don’t remember. I don’t know.”

  Sagar sniffed. The smell of lavender and mint drifted in the room. “I’m giving you a chance. If I tear a rip into the fabric, the agan rushing into that body may be too much for you now. You’ll render that host useless.”

  “What? I—”

  “Don’t think of a name. Think of the place. This isn’t your home—you know as much as that. What does yours look like?”

  The boy swallowed. “Fields. Trees. An apple orchard—my father loved apples.” He flinched, as if speaking the words had caused something in him to unhinge. “And mountains. There were mountains in the distance.”

  “Did you live near a town? Or a city?”

  “…a city? No, it wasn’t near. I—ah! You needed to ride a horse to get there. A horse. Oh, Jang—”

  “He became attached to the cart-horse we had a few days past,” Sume explained.

  Sagar snorted. “So you like horses, do you?”

  “…we had a big stable. Black, and dun, and…Da’s warhorse was enormous. We called him Charger. He was a bay horse.” Kefier noted that he used the Kagtar word for bay, but he didn’t seem to notice. There was no Jinsein equivalent—they called horses like that ‘brown’, the same colour they used to describe thatched baskets.

  Sagar, too, caught this. “Did you live near the wilds? Or a thick forest?”

  “No. There was a river. And if you walked, you saw the sea? Black cliffs all around. And the city, you said—buildings made of brick, and houses with panes. They would polish them, those houses, because sometimes the king would have contests where he would choose the best-looking one. He would give out prizes—aged wine and brandy in barrels, one time the most beautiful horse I had ever seen—a chestnut with tail like golden silk.”

  He kept using more Kag words. “And there was a baker who sold pies on a street by the bridge. Apple pies that melted in your mouth, with pastry that tasted of butter and cinnamon, and cherry pies with more cherries than sauce, served with warm cream. We would wash them down with cold cider, so delicious they made your knees tingle. Da wanted to hire her for our kitchen.”

  “Tilarthan,” Sagar said. “You lived near Tilarthan, in Hafod.”

  The boy looked visibly shaken upon hearing the word. He nodded.

  “Myar, was it?”

  “Yes?”

  “Where is Dai?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Myar. Myar, you have to understand. This is not your body or your life. This boy Dai slipped into the agan, and it is his family you are with, his family who has been taking care of you. They miss him. You must have seen all of this happen, else you wouldn’t have crawled into his shell.”

  The boy swallowed. “He…that was his name?”

  “Yes. Dai alon gar Kaggawa. You know this already. The woman sitting in that corner is his aunt. Not the withered old thing, the pretty one.”

  Narani uttered something under her breath.

  The boy looked around them. He suddenly looked like every breath he took pained him. “No. No! He…he left himself. Said he wanted to see—to see further into the void.”

  “You told him that he could? Is that why he left?”

  “What? No! No! I just…I didn’t stop him. That’s all.” He glanced at Sume again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know. There was no one to talk to for so very long. And then someone kept calling me. It had Da’s voice. I followed it. He…your boy, he must not have gone very far. I told him not to go very far.”

  “I think it’s clear as day what needs to be done here,” Narani broke in. “My idiot son needs to tap into the agan in order to call the boy back.”

  “It’s not as simple as that, Mother.”

  “I’ve seen you do more for fun. Didn’t you once conjure a beast out of nowhere? A goose, I recall.”

  “Mere tricks. I was younger and stronger back then. But I am touched you remember.”

  “Only because I was forced to clean up after the sorry beast. It was no good on the dinner table either—all bones and gristle. You were as much of a failure then as you are now.”

  “I’m starting to miss the dungeon,” Sagar murmured. He dipped his hand in the basin and then reached out for the boy.

  The boy’s eyes grew wide. “What are you going to do to me?”

  “I need to see if Dai’s soul lingers near his body, as you say it does.”

  “But that would mean—you’d send me back? No, you can’t do that! No! My father called me! I haven’t even found him yet!” He got up.

  Sagar grabbed his shoulder and pulled him to the ground. He then swore and struck the boy. The action rendered him immobile for a moment, and he reached out and placed his wet hand on the boy’s forehead. Kefier got up to intervene.

  A blue light appeared around the gaps between their bodies, followed by a faint humming. It lasted for a moment, and then Sagar and the boy collapsed to the ground in a tangle of limbs.

  “Don’t touch them,” Narani said. “Else they might not know how to return.”

  Kefier swallowed, looked at Sume, and then sat down again. For a long time, there was nothing but silence in the room, marred only by their heavy breathing. It was Sagar who awakened first, coughing. He reached for the basin and plunged his head into it.

  A moment later, the boy’s eyes opened. Sume rushed to his side. “Dai?” she asked.

  The boy’s brows furrowed. “Weren’t you listening? It’s Myar.”

  She placed her hands over her mouth and took a step back.

  Sagar glanced at him. “He won’t leave. But I found your boy. I found him. Dai!” And he lunged forward, as if to strike him again.

  The boy trembled and his eyes blacked out. “Sister?” he murmured, his voice noticeably different.

  “Ab help us all,” Kefier broke in.

  Sume stood motionless. Dai looked at her and sat down. He looked at his hands first, and then at Sagar. “You helped me come back,” he said. There were hollow circles under his eyes. “But it still feels so cold. What happened? Where am I?”

  “Half in and half out. The best I could do,” Sagar said. He was now drinking a cup of tea they’d set out for him earlier. “That blasted Myar won’t leave.”

  “He can still hear you,” Dai murmured. “He insists that if he leaves, there will be nowhere else for him to go.”

  “There is much truth in that, though I truly don’t care.” Sagar wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Had I another with connection to the agan, I might have attempted to wrest the pest out, bu
t as it stands, I might have damaged your body to where neither of you could return to it. That, if nothing else, would have killed it.”

  Narani sighed. “You never were the one to do anything right.”

  “Leave me alone, Mother. I have other problems to deal with.” He glanced through the window. “Blasted guards won’t even give me a night’s rest. I think I need to go.”

  “Wait,” Sume said. “You mean to tell us he will walk around with that—thing—inside him?”

  “Not a thing. Another boy. Long dead, it seems like.”

  “And there’s truly nothing you can do about it?”

  “Didn’t you hear me? I need another gifted in the agan who will do this with me. Not all are. It is not a pleasant thing, slipping into the stream and then back. Be thankful I found him at all.” He tugged at the door. “Maybe you need to feed me before you see me off, Mother. The guards might not be so charitable and I still might get my head chopped off before dawn.”

  “Whines and complaints. Just like your old father.” Narani pushed him out of the door before turning towards them. “Don’t look so glum, both of you. He is back, isn’t he? In a fashion. Dai, or Myar…”

  “Dai. I am Dai.” There was a look of resolve on the boy’s face as he said that.

  “Well, whoever you are, you’re still human, so you might as well put something in your belly, too. And you, Sume. Spirits know if you’ve eaten at all during the day, you know you have a baby to feed. Oh, but I am too old for this nonsense. I really am.”

  Chapter Nine

  “You look like you haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages. What’s the matter, Lord Ylir? Reema’s keeping you up lately?” Makin gave the smug grin of a man who cherished the thought of irritating people with his prying.

  Enosh didn’t give him the satisfaction of a glance. “If only that were true.”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t consummated your wedding bed yet.” Makin tapped the pointed cloth hat on his head. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “I’ve made it a rule not to talk about my nights.”

  “So instead you let others talk about it. It is true, then! There is a woman in this world who won’t fall for your otherworldly charms! The same woman who happens to be your young, darling wife...”