“If they met you, they would see their own folly,” the prince insisted.
“A pleasant sentiment, but even a friendly game of cards would prove disastrous,” Levee slipped her fingers into Jaycent’s palm and subtly slid the keys free with a wink. “Sleight of hand, you see.”
“If that is your best trick, I fret for your career as a pickpocket.”
Levee laughed. “Then be glad I’m not one.”
“We won’t be long,” he promised. “No more than an hour. I want to get an early start in the morning.”
“Take however long you need,” Levee consented, unbothered by the thought of being alone. The gypsy turned to leave, but paused a few steps later as if she forgot something.
Jaycent watched curiously as his mate turned around. She placed a hand on his shoulder and pulled something from the back of her belt as if it had been a passing thought. “Keep one hand on this, would you?” She handed him a dagger he had made from a stag horn and bone. “You should really be careful with so many people around.”
Jaycent’s palm fell upon his sheath only to come up emptyhanded. His lips parted in humbled silence as he realized the keys had only been a distraction. He had fallen for an elementary street trick.
The prince chuckled at his own embarrassment. Levee’s point had been taken. Despite her youth and innocence, she was still a gypsy, able to hold her own in a strange city. The last thing she needed was a worried mate shadowing her every movement.
It was a sentiment the prince could understand. He smiled in wake of the lesson and took the dagger from her hand. “I will fill you in upon our return.”
“I know,” she patted his shoulder and departed for the stair.
Jaycent slid the blade back into its sheath and watched the gypsy go. His gaze lingered on the stairway even after she disappeared up its steps, his mind mulling over how much he truly admired Levee’s spirit. She was so pure, so full of adventure, so—
The prince averted his gaze to the meal growing cold beside his hands. He had heard such sentiments before through his cousin Rayhan as he wistfully described the elven love he’d left behind.
The prince hadn’t understood it then. Not like he did now. He rested his chin on one hand while the other absentmindedly tapped his dish with his spoon.
“I feel I have missed something,” Tobi remarked in his native tongue. Jaycent turned toward the re’shahna who was drowning his grin behind the mug of ale he’d been nursing for half an hour. “Was there more to that cup of tea the other night than you led me to believe?”
In the past Jaycent would have made an indifferent jest toward the act of intimacy, but this wasn’t the same. Tobi didn’t have to ask to know what had transpired that night on the stone outcrop. Jaycent’s actions proclaimed he had heeded his heart and chosen a mate.
“I made a bold move,” Jaycent confessed to his older friend. “Now is not the time to be making choices like these, but I could not put it off and risk another rahee stealing her from me. While I have never shied away from risks, losing Levee was not one worth taking.”
“You do not have to explain yourself to me, my friend,” the re’shahna smiled. “My heart is happy for you.”
“I am happy,” Jaycent proclaimed. “That alone is a rare thing worth rejoicing.”
Tobi lifted his drink in cheers to his young friend’s profound words. “May you come to know it well.”
The pair talked for a long while, swapping tales about females and thrilling hunts. Despite their stark differences, there was one thing the duo agreed upon, and that was the belief that despite its harsh weather and many dangers, life felt simple among the mountains’ trees and crags. Tobi was much older than Jaycent, yet the prince had come to consider the peculiar re’shahna both a mentor and a friend.
An hour passed, and Gavin arrived just as he promised.
“Where is your lady friend?” he inquired as he slid into the same stool Levee had previously occupied. The barkeep grabbed a glass and started to fill it for him, but the young soldier waved him off.
“Levee is weary from our long journey,” Jaycent explained. “She will not be joining us tonight.”
Gavin folded his hands on the bar. “I’m sure you both are tired as well. Let us head out now so you may return and retire early.”
Jaycent and Tobi agreed, and Gavin escorted them back into the streets of Brennensdale. The crowds had thinned with the waning daylight, and Tobi shielded his appearance beneath his cowl to avoid unwanted attention.
Jaycent sympathized with the re’shahna, recalling how uncomfortable it was to draw attention everywhere he went. Here in Brennensdale rahee were fairly commonplace, and none knew Nevaharday’s prince well enough to pick him out of a crowd.
Especially not now. Jaycent’s months amidst the re’shahna change him. His face was fuller, his muscles were thicker, and his cheeks remained under a constant blanket of stubble.
“Here,” Gavin turned down a narrow alleyway which descended into a flight of steps leading to a lone door.
Jaycent’s ears went back and he looked over his shoulder. “A rather secluded place to call home.”
Gavin pulled a ring of keys from his belt and shrugged as if he’d forgotten how shady the alleyway abode appeared.
“To understand this place, you’d have to understand Tennay Rallargo,” he picked through the keys until he found the appropriate one. “Before we go in, I might as well warn you.
“When my father first came to Brennensdale, he tried to be a voice against the gypsy uprising, and in doing so he made some brutal enemies. I don’t know the whole story. I just remember the night he came home wearing more blood than clothes.
“Whatever happened, he won’t talk about it. He hardly talks at all anymore without the help of a stiff drink. So please, just play along with my explanation of who you are and where you come from. It is the easiest way to help you find the answers you need.”
“Wonderful,” Jaycent muttered. Gavin opened the door and Tobi grabbed the prince’s elbow.
“I do not like the sound of this, Connor Prince,” Tobi whispered in his native tongue. “Not a bit.”
“Have a little faith, re’shahna,” his companion winked in spite of his own concerns. “Is this not the path Tennakawa’s led us to?”
Tobi smirked. “I pray it be.” He patted the smooth, spiral shard that was tucked beneath his tunic and followed the prince as he ducked through the door.
Inside the dimly lit home there were no windows. Only a thin slit between the walls and the roof that allowed air to circulate and vent. A fire burned in the hearth, and in the middle of the room a thin haired rahee with a split ear and graying beard chewed indignantly on his lukewarm meal.
“Father,” Gavin greeted. He knelt and planted a kiss upon the old rahee’s forehead. “I brought friends with me tonight. A rahenyan refugee from Nevaharday and his re’shahna companion. They just arrived in Brennensdale a few days ago. They bring news of your old home and hope for our kin.”
Tennay Rallargo looked up from his dinner, and Jaycent held fast to his placid expression despite the rahee’s grotesque image. A deep scar ran across his eye and through his lips, misshaping them into a permanent smirk.
“Too tall to be a rahee,” he mumbled. “I remember my city. I know what my people look like. Only the king stood that tall, and he’s dead.”
The blunt force of Tennay’s words struck a hard blow to the prince’s heart, and he flinched at the mention of his father.
“Aye, there be truth in your words,” Tobi put in, trying his best to speak clearly in the common tongue. “Re’shahna blood runs through his veins, thin though it be.”
“But I am of Nevaharday, sirrah. In fact, I am a soldier like yourself,” Jaycent added. “Though I serve in the cavalry, not the King’s Guard.”
“Where is your horse?” the gruff rahee asked.
“Dead,” Jaycent sighed, letting go of Tennay’s remarks as he fell into a charade that wo
uld appeal to the jaded old rahee’s sentiments. “Along with many of my comrades, thanks to a traitorous attack upon our kingdom.”
“Gypsies,” Tennay spat as if the word were a curse. “Damn the nomadic dogs!”
Gavin put two comforting hands upon his father’s drooping shoulders. “Relax, father. Remember what the healer said—”
“Damn the healer! He’s just trying to keep me locked up in this stuffy old hole until I die,” the old rahee tilted his ears back and studied his new guests. “And damn you, too! What, do you think I can help you in your fight? I tried to warn our people. I started to rally allies here in Brennensdale to come to our aid.
“I was a young fool then. I thought I could be a hero, just like you. But the enemy has eyes in every crevice, don’t you doubt,” Tennay lifted a nubby wrist and shook it in front of his face. “And when they heard me speaking out, they tore me from the streets and carved me to look like the monsters they are inside!”
Tobi knelt beside the haunted old rahee and shed his cowl. “We share your sorrow, Tennay Rallargo. But as you cried out, so did another,” he motioned to the prince who slid into a chair beside the scarred rahee. “He comes to you now with the re’shahna behind him, seeking an ancient weapon that shall be the bane of Nevaharday’s enemy. Your son told us if it were here, you would know.”
“I would and I don’t, so there isn’t.”
“But there is a hall of the dead,” Unlike Tobi or Gavin, Jaycent didn’t express any sympathy or pity. “Where is it, Rallargo?”
“Hall of the dead?” peppered eyebrows flicked upward at the mention of the cryptic place. “Where did you hear of such a curse?”
“From a warrior now dead,” the prince’s tone was flat and impatient. “I am what is left of a unit sent to bring answers back to Nevaharday. Don’t send me home empty handed, soldier. Tell me what I need to know so that our streets may be safe again and all who desire to come home can.”
The way Jaycent spoke reminded Rallargo of his days as a soldier inside the royal barracks. He stood up straighter and lifted his chin a little higher. Looking at his son, he shooed the boy out of the room and made sure the door was shut before responding in a quiet voice.
“The monks of Hikshu built their cathedral upon ancient cairns. Inside lies a relic once wielded by an old re’shahna named Clovenhoof. I was on my way to see the door of this place when I was attacked. Their eyes are on the cathedral, just as they are upon my door. They will come for you, soldier. Watch your back, and do not let your hand stray far from your hilt.”
“What exactly is the relic?” Jaycent asked.
“No one knows,” Tennay replied. “Whatever lies behind those walls has yet to be seen. My team couldn’t get to it, and neither can the enemy. It is the only thing that keeps me content in my crippled defeat.
“Seek it out if you’re must. But if you’re the lucky fool that finds Clovenhoof’s relic, you must swear upon your life it shall never fall into enemy hands.”
Jaycent tapped his fist against the table and rose. “You have my word. Rest well, soldier, for you have honored your kingdom this night.”
Tennay Rallargo’s eyes widened at the formal blessing which could only be given by the king himself.
“Glory be,” he whispered through slurring, broken lips. “Long live the king!” he shouted after Jaycent’s departing figure, his arms flailing high in what seemed like delirium. “Long live the king!”
As Tobi and Jaycent bid farewell, the joyous laughter of the tortured soldier muffled into silence behind the solid door. The re’shahna hooked an arm around the prince’s shoulders and gave them an encouraging shake.
“Long live the king,” Tobi repeated in the ancient tongue. As the pair departed for the Waving Pine, they kept one hand on their hilts and their eyes peeled for any foes that may intercept them.
It was a thrilling lead, but they kept their excitement tempered. No matter how out of touch with reality Tennay seemed, neither of them wanted to risk joining those who dwelled within the halls of the dead.
SILENCING THE RAT
Gavin stared into the glowing hearth, the flicking flames reflecting in his hazel eyes as he listened to the bickering voices in the other room. His mother—a fair woman whose patience had been run dry by the addled ramblings of a mad soldier—screamed over Tennay’s inebriated responses.
“Have you lost what sense you have left?” she screamed. “Tellin’ strangers business you swore to those demons never to utter… What were you thinkin’, Tennay? That your shadows won’t hear about yer waggin’ tongue? Did you learn nothin’ from the wounds they left ye?”
“I learned alright,” the old soldier’s cynical laugh stung Gavin’s ears. “A scarred bag of flesh and bones. That’s what they made me, woman. It’s all I’ll ever be so let the vermin rip out my soul for good! They would have come for me eventually, anyway.”
“And your family? Do you care nothing for our wellbeing?”
“Leave,” Tennay invited her. “Do not make yourself out to be a martyr. Go to your brother’s house, as you’ve desired for years to do. I will deal with my fate alone.”
Gavin heard the sharp smack his mother delivered in response. “How dare ye speak such words!”
“Would death but come upon me now!” the broken soldier barked. “If only to bring me peace from your incessant nagging!”
Their warring cut the young Legion soldier deeper than any sword or dagger. He’d grown up with their forays, listening to the paranoid nightmares of a faceless foe his father claimed was always watching.
Never once had Gavin seen the dreadful enemies or heard their stealthy footsteps, but Tennay Rallargo swore they were always near; a warning that had grown stale to the ears of his son.
“I’ve stood by yer side for seventeen years, Tennay Rallargo! I loved a face that’d make babes weep and gave ya the son you always wanted. When ye lost your soul to these frightening foes, I never left your side.” Her pleading word made Gavin want to weep, and he cursed the keen ears that forced him to hear it all.
“So do it now while ya still got the looks to start a new lot!” The ring of shattering glass had Gavin to his feet and he burst into the room just in time to see his sobbing mother leave.
“Mother,” Gavin reached for her arm.
“I’m sorry,” she warbled through shaky breaths. “Watch over your father, will you?” She placed a palm over her son’s hand. “I’m going to fetch your uncle. He’ll be able to talk some sense into him again. You’ll see, don’t fret,” she was always full of promises, empty as they were. “He’s just stuck in his demons again, that’s all.”
Gavin reluctantly let his mother go, flinching as the front door slammed shut behind her. Then he turned an angry eye upon his father. “You did this,” he shouted behind an accusing finger. “You always do this! Why do you make her suffer when all she does is love you?”
“Better for her to hate me and live than die for my doomed soul,” the soldier grumbled.
Gavin threw his hands in the air. “When are you going to wake up and see it?” Frustrated, the young soldier tossed the blankets from the bed and searched every dresser drawer, nook and cranny only to come out emptyhanded. “Look! There is no enemy lurking in the shadows, father. They’re gone, long gone.” He pointed to his skull. “What’s left is all inside your head!”
The candle upon the table flickered and danced, lengthening the shadows under Tennay Rallargo’s eyes “Leave, Gavin.”
The half-blood’s ears flicked back and he growled. “So that is it? I call your bluff and you chase me away like you did the only woman who could ever bear the burden of loving you?”
“Get out!” Tennay roared. He launched to his feet and unsheathed the rusting sword that never left his hip, not even in his sleep.
Gavin’s eyes went wide. He unsheathed his own blade while slowly backing out of the cramped bedroom. “Are you going to kill me?” he challenged, hoping the blunt statement would br
ing the haunted soldier back to his senses.
“No, boy,” Tennay’s throaty voice croaked. “To ignore me is to kill yourself.”
Suddenly, the dimly lit room flashed with glinting metal as Gavin experienced the prowess of his broken father. The boy brought his sword up just in time to block the high slice before it could slit his throat.
Tennay pushed him forward with several quick steps that threw Gavin off balance. The boy soldier scrambled backward, desperate to keep his feet beneath him. It was all he could do to keep up the pace, his arm aching from the ringing parries.
He swung his blade frantically to fend off every sharp thrust, arcing slice, and fierce jab, but he couldn’t bring himself to take the offensive. Not against his father.
“Foolish boy!” Tennay growled. Their swords clashed between their chests and he shoved his son into the stone door. “Stop your tarrying. Run before your blood stains this cursed floor!”
As he said it, Tennay flicked the doorknob around, sending Gavin tumbling out into the dusty alley. The young soldier fell flat on his back and coughed, the impact stealing the wind from his lungs. Lifting his head, he squinted at the open doorway.
Then it all made sense. Tennay wore a resigned expression as he stared at his only son for a few fleeting moments. A cloaked figure closed in behind the old soldier and Gavin clawed his way to his feet, launching himself at the door. “Father!”
The door slammed shut, its bolt locked, and all Gavin could do was hear the ring of steal followed by his father’s determined grunts. Gavin banged his fists against the door, screaming through its cracks and denying what he knew would come next.
A sickening slice. A clattering blade. And again, through his tears, Gavin cursed the gift of his horse-like ears when the gurgling sounds of his father’s dying breaths were followed by a sickening thump.
It was the sound of a fate Tennay had predicted all these years. Gavin slid down the door, his body rattled with violent sobs. He fell upon his knees, his sword clattering helplessly beside him as he balled his fists against the ground. Tears dripped upon the sand as he watched through blurred vision the slow trickle of crimson seep from beneath the heavy door.
The Rogue Trilogy Page 33
