An Elegy of Heroes

by K. S. Villoso

  “Don’t say that,” she said.

  “If you saw the look in that man’s eyes…” He took a deep breath. “I think it’s different, when you’re trying to fight for something. You’re trying to preserve a part of yourself so that you have enough left over for tomorrow. We’re all a little like that, no matter how far off the edge we’ve been. Even after I thought I’d lost Rosha, the fact that I didn’t see her body made all the difference. I didn’t have time to process it, so my mind was trying to preserve myself, trying to hold enough of me back because none of us really want to lose ourselves.

  “He has none of that. They took everything away from him, and I think being alive all this time…waiting and remembering…has twisted his mind into something else. Whatever it is he plans to do here, he’s already resigned himself to knowing that nothing else will do. Walking away and living peacefully is not an option. Negotiations are not an option. He’s drowned in his sorrow and I think he means to make sure he drags us all down with him.”

  He closed his mouth, as if speaking had exhausted all his efforts. But a moment later, he continued. “I caught a glimpse of that darkness, after what happened in Fort Oras. I would not wish it on my worst enemy. You’ve seen his home in Cael, haven’t you?”

  “Yes,” Sume said. “Seven bedrooms, not counting the servants’ quarters or guest rooms. Each room, from what I recall, was outfitted as if for a particular person.”

  “Based on what I remember from my conversations with Myar, Enosh had his room, I think,” Kefier said. “Rosha had Vayna’s. Arn, obviously, Aldeti’s. And they made me stay in a room that I think was Gorrhen’s. You know they burned down Agartes’ home after the massacre?”

  Sume felt her skin crawl. “So the one in Cael City was a restoration.”

  “All the things—the books, the toys—he bought them for that purpose.” Kefier bit his lip. “I can’t even call him mad, now. He was grieving.”

  “It doesn’t excuse all of this.”

  “It doesn’t.” He fell silent, watching her finish wiping the grime off his face. “When will you wed?”

  “After all of this, if we’re all still alive by the end of it,” Sume said. She was surprised at how calm she sounded. She avoided looking into his eyes, though. “I’ll be honest…I thought you would be angry about this.”

  “I am.”

  “Yet you haven’t insulted me yet. That’s a first.”

  “I think I understand why you’re doing it,” he said. “Doesn’t mean I like it, but I understand.”

  She nodded. “It will make Rosha’s transition to Dageian society a lot easier, or so Enosh insists. His standing makes it a simple process for him to apply for citizenship. This makes it eligible for her to become a student of Eheldeth. Sapphire told me that it took over a year for her and Moon to be admitted, because their father and mother weren’t married, and that was only because of their father’s connections.” She turned to him. “You’re not listening to me, are you?”

  “No.”

  “That’s not fair. You asked me.”

  “I asked you when you’ll wed. I didn’t need to hear the reason.” He looked at her hands, which were folded at the edge of the bed. “You’re still holding on to your love for him. It’s how you are. You can’t walk away unless he’s given you a clear reason to do so. I knew that even before I met you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oji’s stories about you and your letters to him. I think how he used to say it was like this: Sume never forgets a moment of kindness. It made him worry about you because the world isn’t like that. The world can get ugly…people will use you and not think twice about it. Kindness is deceiving.”

  “I know, Kefier. I’ve grown up. I’m not that girl anymore.”

  He snorted. “You are. You’re still that girl I met in Fuyyu, the one who’d freely give her friendship to a stranger without stopping to question him.”

  “But you didn’t have ill intentions,” she pointed out.

  Kefier’s jaw tightened. “They weren’t exactly warm and compassionate.”

  Sume tried to remember those days. It was so long ago, now, but the memory of Kefier as a young man—with a deeper flash of anger in his eyes—came to her. She remembered thinking how it felt like he wanted to avoid her and seek her out at the same time. How even back then, he looked at her like a man on the verge of breaking.

  “You wanted to tell me you killed my brother,” she said in a flat voice.

  He nodded.

  “Was that all you wanted, back then? Why did you keep following me?”

  Kefier hesitated for a moment before reaching under the bed. He pulled out his sword and placed it on his knees. “I don’t know if you remember—you must’ve been very young when you last saw him with it—but that’s Oji’s sword.”

  She swallowed. She had seen Kefier with the sword all these years. She knew it was Jinsein and had assumed that he bought it in Fuyyu when he lived there. Her eyes ran over the plain wooden hilt, with the carved deer’s head at the end of it.

  “I wanted you to take that and run me through,” he said.

  “You wanted me to kill you?”

  “I deserved nothing less for what I did. But I was too much of a coward to say it and you talked so damn much.” She picked the sword up. It was lighter than it looked. Caked blood decorated its hilt.

  “You’re still free to use it on me, if you want,” he whispered.

  Sume made a practice swing, trying to ignore how the sound of Kefier’s voice made her feel. “Don’t be ridiculous. I may take it for myself. I need a blade and Mahe promised she’ll train me someday.”

  “Go ahead. I should have never kept it.”

  She returned the sword to its sheath and pushed it back under the bed. “Is that it? There anything else you’ve been keeping from me all these years?”

  “Just the one,” he said, looking at her.

  “Well,” she murmured, turning away from him. She knew what he meant and didn’t want to hear it. “You don’t know the truth of it. If I don’t forget kindness, neither do you. We are alike that way, Oji used to tell me.”

  “You still think I stayed around because of obligation?”

  “That, and guilt.”

  “And is that why you’d believe Enosh’s word over mine?”

  “Let’s not talk about this anymore, Kefier,” she whispered. “It changes nothing.”

  “No,” he agreed, closing his eyes again. Sitting on the floor with her back to the wall, she watched him fall asleep, the first rays of dawn dancing over his face.

  The Baidhan mercenaries arrived a little before midday. Sume could see the ships through the windows, their white sails spreading like clouds over the horizon. She counted at least ten, though she felt like there were more hiding behind the fog.

  Kefier was still asleep. Drawing a cloak around herself, she left the room, sticking to the shadowed alleyways.

  The tavern below them was abandoned. She caught sight of a dog, tied up behind the door. She undid the rope and watched it flee down the street before she broke into the pantry. It had been emptied during last night’s panic, but she found a loaf of bread and a package of smoked meat that had been left behind the counter.

  She was still rummaging through the tavern when the doors opened. She froze. A man in a brown cloak walked in. “Sume,” he said, his face lighting up at the sight of her.

  “Aden?” she ventured. She had only met him once before, but she remembered the sound of his voice and the squinting gaze he regarded her with.

  The man broke into a grin. He was part-Jinsein from what she remembered, though it only reflected in his eyes. “Caiso told me to check up on Kefier. I’m glad to see you. How is he?”

  “Well enough,” she said. “I’m looking for food.”

  “No need to worry,” Aden said, placing a basket in front of her. “I stole some cabbage soup from the kitchens. Should still be warm.”

  Sume sniffed
his offering appreciatively. “I take it Lon Basden is under Hafed control, now?”

  Aden nodded. “King Agartes keeps a close watch on things, but I wouldn’t go out of the street if I were you. I don’t like the looks of those Baidhan mercenaries.”

  “They’re from Baidh. How bad could they be?”

  “Yes, the land of shepherds and rolling green hills. You’d think you would know better than to listen to stereotypes. I think the King hired them off the northern tip of the island. They call themselves mercenaries, but as far as I’m concerned they’re fucking pirates. I’ve had one spit at me when I tried to shake his hand.”

  “He’s sending them to Drusgaya next, isn’t he?”

  “That’s the plan, I think. I’m just a captain, so I don’t know exactly what’s happening. I could use some sleep, though.” He rubbed his eyes.

  “You must’ve at least seen my daughter, Rosha.”

  “I haven’t,” he said. “I’m sorry. I’m sure she’s safe.”

  Sume placed the rest of the food in Aden’s basket. “I’ll stay here for a bit,” she said. “You should go see him. He’s in the third room to the back.” She gave him the key. “Before you go, be straight with me. Do you believe the rumours that Kefier killed my brother?”

  Aden whistled. “Fuck. That’s a loaded question, isn’t it?”

  “He confessed years ago. I just…I need to know what others think about it.”

  Aden took a deep breath. “For the longest time, I thought Gaven had been exaggerating. But Kefier admitted to it—did it after he took command of the Boarshind first, the bastard—but…” He scratched his cheek.

  “But what?”

  “I think I know what you’re trying to ask me. I can only say this: Oji’s death still haunts him. It’s what set him on this path, and that will never change until the day he dies.

  “Back when we were all working together, Oji used to have so many ideas about how the Boarshind should be run. Kefier remembered them. When he took command of the Boarshind, he could’ve just done whatever fucking thing Yn Garr ordered him and left it at that. It would’ve made things a lot easier for him. Instead, he fought to keep things fair, and he kept our families in mind, too. There’s many a farm or business in Kago you can trace back to his generous gifts. You can see Oji’s shadow behind his actions, those same old ideals he used to preach about. There’s a lot of people who disagree. They think Kefier’s too soft—fuck, there’s Caiso, for example. He doesn’t understand. He didn’t know Oji.”

  “Thank you for telling me,” Sume said.

  Aden smiled before stepping back out through the door.

  She followed him not long after, although she lingered by the alley, staring out at the sails in the distance. The Sweet Balla was anchored some distance from the city, and she hoped the soldiers were safe and at least had the sense to pretend to be fishermen caught in the commotion. If Kefier’s fever dropped tonight, she supposed that she could head out for Drusgaya to join up with Enosh and the rest of them. Waiting too long could be dangerous. She didn’t know how Agartes was planning to keep people in line, and she wasn’t sure if she wanted to stick around long enough to find out.

  She returned to the room with the basket, passing Aden on his way out. Aden pulled her into a hug. “In case we don’t meet again,” he said. “I’ll give your regards to your brother.”

  “You don’t believe in this fight. Is it too hard to find a way to flee? Return to your family, get them away from Yn Garr’s sights…”

  “We did not join the Boarshind because we had choices,” Aden said. “You know this.” He whistled and walked off.

  Kefier was sitting on the table when she returned to the room. She placed the basket in front of him. Wordlessly, he picked up the loaf and broke it into two. He gave her the other half. She accepted it, mumbling her thanks, and took a seat. “I think you can take care of yourself from here on. I’m leaving tonight, when it’s dark. There’s a boat waiting for me west of the city.”

  “Enosh is with the Eheldeth mages, I assume?”

  She nodded. “The Enji-ar, under Kastor rog-Bannal’s command. Though you’d never get Sapphire and Enosh to admit that.”

  “They’ll be trying to bolster Drusgaya’s defences while Yn Garr makes his move.” He looked through the window. “I wish there was something I could do.”

  “You said it yourself. You’re tired. You’ve got no connection to the agan, and you’d only be risking yourself if you stick around in Dageis.”

  “That never mattered to me,” he murmured.

  “It’s all right, Kefier. Whatever you think you owe me because of Oji’s death…it’s done. Consider it paid. Let’s live the rest of our lives unburdened by our mistakes.”

  “Yet you would still leave tonight to go back to Enosh.”

  Sume nodded. “I made that choice, yes.”

  “And we will not see each other again.”

  It was very nearly a question. She tapped the surface of the table with her finger for a moment before nodding a second time.

  “Just so we’re clear.” He set aside the rest of his bread and drew away.

  Twice, Sume went back out to gather what she could for him from the tavern downstairs. They did not talk beyond mere courtesies. In the meantime, Kefier kept an eye on the sunlight seeping through the curtains, dreading every hour as it passed.

  When the light had turned grey, he watched her gather her things. He took Oji’s sword and placed it beside her.

  “You could hold on to it for now,” she said. “Besides, I wouldn’t know how to use it. I’d probably end up slicing my fingers off.”

  “You said this is goodbye. I won’t get the chance to give it to you again.”

  Sume stopped halfway through stuffing a blanket into her pack, as if his words had caught her by surprise. “You were the one who said that,” she said, after a length of time.

  “You agreed to it.”

  She got up to face him. “I will, actually, be really glad when I don’t have to listen to you find reasons to argue with me.” He knew she found it difficult to quell her voice once it had risen. “Everything I do is wrong in your eyes. Everything. Enosh would—”

  Kefier grabbed her wrist and took one step towards her. Her eyes met his. After a moment, he placed his hand on the crook of her neck and pressed forward to kiss her against the table. He did not know whether to be more surprised that he had gone through with it or that her lips yielded to his roughness without hesitation. The taste of her breath was driving him over the edge, threatening to make him lose control. When he felt her tongue brush up against his teeth, he had to force himself to pull away.

  “You’re free to leave,” he growled. “Like you’ve told me a hundred times before. Walk out of that door now, Sume.” He stared at her, panting.

  Wordlessly, she stepped away. Kefier stared at the table, his entire body shaking with rage. He didn’t know now if he was angry at himself or at her, or at Enosh, or at the whole damned world for putting them in a position where they could not do what their hearts wanted. A moment later, he realized that she had not taken her pack with her. He heard the door lock click.

  He felt her hand on his back. He turned. Their lips met, this time with her body pressing over him. His arms came up to hold her close enough that he could hear her heart pounding.

  After an indeterminate amount of time, she stopped to catch her breath. “You know I have to leave,” she whispered over his chest.

  “You and your fucking priorities, woman.” His voice rumbled.

  She placed a finger on his lips. “But I can do that tomorrow morning.”

  “Then make this count,” he breathed.

  Sume tugged his shirt off, pressing her lips on his collarbone. Her fingers ran past his bandages, curling over his back and down his spine. After a moment, he drew her away from the table and onto the floor. Her fingers came up to help him as he undressed her.

  Kefier lingered over Sume’s b
ody, his lips running over her in an attempt to preserve the memory of every curve of her skin, of every breath that shuddered from her and into his mouth. She was the one who had to unlace his pants, reminding him of his need. He almost didn’t want to, because all he wanted to do was bask in the heat of her pleasure and it marked the beginning of an end to this night, but the desire to feel her soften under and around him became too great to resist.

  He allowed her to guide himself into her. “Kefier,” she said, and in the spark of an instant, he forgave her for the past three years, for leaving him behind, for all the things she had done and was about to do to him. Everything else became inconsequential. So what if she thought she loved someone else? So what if she was still going to walk away from him after this? It was his name on her lips. To hell with the rest of the world.

  Buried inside her, his hips rocking a tight rhythm, he placed his lips over her ear. “Pretend you’re mine tonight,” he murmured.

  “I’ve never had to pretend,” she whispered. There were tears in her eyes. He wasn’t sure what it meant and wasn’t sure that he wanted to know. At the cusp of desperation and desire, he felt her lips brush against his cheek. “Do the same.”

  “Pretend I’m yours?”

  Her teeth grazed his neck. “Yes.”

  “Heart and soul, Sume,” Kefier breathed, meaning every word.

  She closed her eyes.

  Kefier awakened in the morning to find himself alone in bed. He gazed at the sheets around the floor before allowing his eyes to settle on the table. Her pack was gone. So was Oji’s sword.

  Last night’s memories returned, every heady detail a beacon that seemed to light his mind on fire. He was right, wasn’t he? She did make it impossible for him to stay away. Even now, he could still taste her on his lips, his every muscle aching for her warmth. If she knew the madness she drove him to, she would be cruel not to put him out of his misery.

  Carefully, he began to put his clothes back on. There was a strait he needed to traverse, lives he needed to protect. He was tired of fighting the truth. He belonged to them, even if they would not have him.