The Pain of Compassion

by Roland Boykin

  Fortunately, his years with the elder Deluti had taught him how to mute the extra burden on his awareness, but it was difficult to do and maintain his illusions. The sorcerer left the ship as soon as the gangway slid out, and ignored Roll when he passed. The faint remnant of evil surrounding the man was odd. Out of habit, he committed the man’s face to memory.

  He soon forgot the sorcerer when three people appeared at the rail. A strikingly beautiful young woman stepped up on the gangway, forcing Roll to struggle with his control. Her eyes passed through him while the amulet hanging from her neck blazed like the rising sun. Dressed as a mercenary, of all things, with a sword at her hip and a travel pack over her shoulder, she strode down the gangway with purpose.

  The man, also dressed as a mercenary, helped the other woman negotiate the narrow path to the pier. Hers was a softer beauty, but no less striking. Who these two were held little interest for him, but of one thing he was sure, Princess Sofia, a Deluti, had just arrived in New Bratan. Emma was going to kill him.

  Drawing a ragged breath, he stepped up and began his well rehearsed act.

  “Welcome to New Bratan. If you be needin a guide…”

  ***

  “May the Eyes protect us!” Emma exclaimed from the window. “Sebastian, I’m afraid our lives just got a lot more complicated.”

  The ogre looked up from the book he was trying to read and bared his fangs in a smile. “What can be more complicated than living with you?”

  Hands on hips, she gave him that look. “Very funny, fur face. For your information, a Deluti just arrived at the docks, and it isn’t Navon.” She turned back to the window. “And they’re coming this way”

  Sebastian shrugged and returned to his book. “Amulets returning be. They find us. You stay here.”

  She climbed back onto the bed to help him with some of the words, and wondered if being found was a good thing.

  ***

  Sofia hung back and studied their little guide. There was something about him that worried at the edge of her new awareness. He had volunteered to carry one of the heavy bags Ronald struggled with and casually slung it over his shoulder. The more she concentrated, a sort of double vision set in and the image of two persons appeared.

  Angry at the deception, she was about to walk up and confront him when she noticed Ronald and Floanne hanging on to each other, walking like they’d had too much wine. The Lieutenant had just finished whispering to Floanne as Sofia hurried to catch up.

  “Is there something wrong? Are you sick?” the Princess worried.

  “No, we’ll be fine,” Ronald assured her as he stumbled again. “Bernard warned me this might happen. After being on the ship for several days, our bodies would need some time to get used to solid ground again. It feels like the earth is moving.” He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. “It doesn’t bother you?”

  Sofia shrugged and walked up ahead to their guide, who now looked like a young man. She waited until the street cleared of passerby’s before commenting. “You are not who you appear to be.”

  Roll nodded to himself, her statement proving what he already knew. Only a Deluti would see through his illusion. Without breaking stride or glancing up at her, he made his own observation. “Neither are you, Highness.”

  She slowed, but he quickly shook his head and urged her to continue. “Please don’t stop, Princess. The situation here is dire, and what you wear around your neck acts like a beacon to anyone sensitive to its power. People will be attracted to you and not understand why. Let’s get you and your friends safely off the streets and into your baths. We will try to answer your questions afterwards.”

  They walked on in silence until the inn came into view. Roll turned to her and kept his voice low enough that only she could hear. “Princess, I know you have no reason to, but please trust me. The innkeeper’s name is Aaron. Tell him Poppie sent you and he’ll take care of you. He will accept your Dahlian coin or anything of value, but don’t let others see. I will return shortly, but there is someone who absolutely needs to know you are here.”

  “And who might that be?”

  “Prince Mathias.”

  Before she could object, he dropped the bag, waved and sprinted off down the street. Ronald and Floanne caught up walking normally again.

  “You know, there’s something not quite right about that boy,” he observed.

  “You’re right, Ronald, and we’ll deal with him later. Right now I have a rendezvous with a bath tub.” Picking up the bag Poppie had left, she led them inside.

  ***

  Mathias arrived at breakfast wearing one of his longer cloaks, complaining of a chill. His mother commiserated, upset the servants no longer kept her rooms comfortably warm. His older brother and sister had their heads together in an animated discussion involving potential marriage prospects among the arriving Baron’s sons and daughters.

  Preoccupied, the King ate quickly, glanced at his son and hesitated. It only lasted a second and then he got up, patted Mathias on the shoulder, and hurried from the dining room. His father was keeping something from him, and it probably had to do with the Dahlian Princess. She should have arrived by now, but every time he asked, the King dismissed his concerns and told him not to worry.

  Mathias worried anyway, along with his other concerns, but right now he had a promise to keep. Kissing his mother on the cheek, he excused himself from the table, ignoring his siblings. Out in the corridor, he noticed a guard leaning casually against the far wall, and headed for the stairs. On a whim, the Prince turned a corner and ducked into a room, leaving the door open just enough to peer out.

  A moment later, the sound of approaching footsteps reached him. The guard hesitated at the corner, but then continued on down the hallway. Was the guard following him, or just going about his rounds? Not wanting to take a chance, Mathias took off in the opposite direction, and headed for the lower levels by another route.

  He searched for and found two working lanterns and carried them hidden inside his cloak. At the last set of stairs, he hesitated and listened. Hearing nothing, the Prince berated himself for an over-active imagination. Why would anyone want to follow him? He hurried down to the hidden door, sighing with relief when it opened easily. Not bothering to latch it, he slipped inside, lit one of the lanterns and left the other hanging from a peg by the door.

  He hurried to the end of the tunnel and knelt down to retrieve the sword. In his haste, he brushed up against the skeleton and the fragile bones collapsed. The pelvis shifted revealing a glitter of gold. Amongst a pile of ancient coins lay a misshapen ring. It appeared to be only half formed with a clear stone attached. Intrigued, he dropped it in his pouch and stood, wrapping the sword in his cloak. Lighting one of the broken lanterns, he left the good one hanging from another peg at this door.

  He returned to the other end and froze at the sound of angry voices outside.

  “You gotta believe me. I followed him down here and he disappeared.”

  “What I believe is you lost him and dragged me down here for nothing. Now go find him before I have to report you to the Duke.”

  Knife in hand, Mathias waited long after the footsteps faded before opening the door, unsure whether he’d heard one set of boots or two. The hall was empty, but out of the corner of his eye, he saw one of the storage room doors move. Blood pounding, he raced up the stairs and around the corner where he flattened up against the wall, and steeled himself for what had to be done.

  The guard appeared and never had a chance to cry out before the Prince’s knife slipped in under his ribs and into his heart. The man’s look of surprise quickly melted as his lifeless body slumped to the floor. Pulse still racing, Mathias dragged the body down to the tunnel, opened the door, and hid it inside. Leaning against the wall, his head spun while he tried to catch his breath.

  Returning to his room with the sword was out of the question. With a new destination in mind, he picked up the bundle and headed for the only place he thought woul
d be safe. Opening the door to the library, he almost ran over his friend.

  Rafael staggered back, opened his mouth to ridicule his friend, and then saw the bundle in Mathias’s arms and the look on his face. No questions were needed as he closed the door and led him to a far corner of the room. He began pulling books from a shelf and neatly stacked them.

  “I found this extra space behind these books a long time ago. The sword should be safe in here as long as I return the books to their proper order.”

  He pulled the bundle from his friend’s unresisting fingers and placed the sword inside, returning the books to their original places. Leading Mathias back to where he had left a book lying on the table, they sat down next to each other. Rafael studied his friend closely and thought, there is a story here I’m not sure I want to hear.

  “What happened, Mathias?”

  The Prince closed his eyes, but jerked them back open, not liking what he saw, and took a deep breath. “I killed a man, Rafael. I’ve never had to kill like that before, and hope to never do it again.”

  “The body?”

  “Inside the tunnel. He followed me there.”

  “Why would anyone follow you, and what is so important about that tunnel you would kill to keep it secret?” Rafael demanded, and then narrowed his eyes. “What are you not telling me?”

  As the Prince struggled to find a way to tell his best friend what they suspected, Rafael stood and slowly paced the floor. Bits of overheard conversations, comments made, and arguments at home over the past year fell into place like pieces of a puzzle. It all made terrible sense.

  Shoulders slumped, his head down, unable to face his old friend. “It’s my father, isn’t it? No wonder you were afraid to trust me completely.”

  “Come sit down, and let me explain.”

  Rafael sat and stared at the ancient history book before him.

  “Look at me, please. Never have I doubted your loyalty or friendship, otherwise I would not have agreed to your meeting with Sebastian. I was so afraid of hurting you before I was sure of the truth. We have discovered the Scarred Mage is able to contact your father. Ignoring his influence would be difficult for anyone.”

  “It’s in his office. It must be. He goes in there and locks the door for hours at a time. No one is allowed in there now.” He frowned, “but what has he done?”

  “The Duke put forth the idea of rotating servants and guards with the other keeps so they would learn the ways of others, and Father agreed.” Mathias hesitated, his eyes searching for a place to land other than on his friend. “Rafael, every servant and guard in the Palace has been replaced by those loyal to your father, and not the King. The heads of all the ruling families will soon be gathered here for the Betrothal even though the Princess has yet to arrive. Can you think of a more perfect time to eliminate all opposition and gain absolute control of the nation?”

  Horrified, Rafael stared wide-eyed at his friend. “He wouldn’t dare!”

  “The old Duke… probably not. But one under the influence of the Dark Lord, would.”

  The young historian began absently turning pages in the large book before him and mused, “It’s happening all over again.”

  “What is?”

  “Here it is,” he said and pushed the book over to Mathias. “This is the drawing of the sword I remembered seeing. It was given to King Harold d’Tomorin by the local member of the Deluti Council of Five in recognition of his support for the Deluti in the war. His Dukes conspired against him, and he died at the same time his son and daughter disappeared. He was publically executed, so the remains we found in the tunnel probably belong to the Prince. It worked for the Dark Lord back then, why not try it again?”

  Before Mathias could respond, a guard poked his head in the door, sighed and approached them. “Prince Mathias. The boy, Poppie, waits for you at the common gate. He says he’s found what you were looking for and to come quickly.”

  “I’ll be right there.” But before he could thank the man, the guard had already spun on his heel and walked out.

  Shaking his head, Mathias turned to his friend. “I must leave. If you still wish to speak with the ogre, come to the inn around midnight.”

  “Mathias, before you go,” Rafael stopped him while pulling his shirt over his head. “Trade me shirts.”

  “Why?”

  “Because there are blood stains on yours.”

  Left alone with his thoughts, Rafael absently turned back a page and found a small drawing he hadn’t noticed before. Peering closer at the page, he muttered, “What a strange looking pair of rings.”

  Chapter Twenty One ~ The Ancient One

  Navon awoke without opening his eyes; instinctively allowing his senses to roam free. The faint scent of down feathers filtered through fresh linens, and the familiarity of the surrounding walls told him where he was. He was not alone. A whisper touch confirmed who it must be, and that the elder slept.

  About to reach out to Moshere in what had become a daily greeting when he woke, the memory of what he’d done the day before, forced him upright in bed staring at his hands. What had happened was impossible. It must have been a dream. In desperation, he reached for the elder Brother and found him and his son sleeping peacefully. Moshere stirred just long enough to greet Navon and thank him for saving Elishere’s life.

  He swung his legs out and sat on the edge of the bed, head hung down and hair falling forward to hide his face from Jamar. Puzzled, the young man slowly ran his fingers through the fall of hair. It had never been dark, but now it almost appeared white. He looked up when the elder stirred and spoke.

  “Yes, your hair is lighter than it was before. The question is why?”

  Elder Jamar sat cross-legged in front of Navon’s door preventing entry, but Navon was afraid the elder had no intention of letting him leave either. Suddenly uncomfortable, he hoped to change the subject by glancing at the window.

  “I wonder what time it is?”

  Jamar’s eyes penetrated Navon’s soul and held him captive. This was the moment the young Deluti had dreaded from the beginning.

  “What time is it? It is time for the truth, Navon d’Roddell.”

  Unable to pull his eyes away, Navon fidgeted. “But I have been telling the truth.”

  The elder’s eyes narrowed and refused to release their hold. “Half-truths. Maybe you are hiding the truth from not only me, but yourself also.”

  Rocking back and forth, his head shaking, Navon again stared at his hands. That was it. All those years of hating his differences, and wishing he was like his brothers so others would like him. And now, those differences were not only imagined, but real. How long would he hide from the truth?

  “Navon, look at me. Some slaves decide to stay and live here after their debt is paid, but even after many years, they have trouble with our language. What language have we been speaking?”

  Eyes wide, staring at the elder, Navon’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. Recognition numbed him.

  Jamar nodded. “You speak our language as if born and raised Shadhuin, and what you did yesterday is not possible for a human. What are you?”

  Navon squeezed his eyes shut and froze. The amulet sent a gentle touch of support and encouragement at the same time Moshere’s thoughts entered his mind. You are who you are for a reason. The world needs you to counter the evil that spreads once again. He thought of his bond with Moonlight, and the final barrier crumbled. He sat up straight, faced the elder, and in a slightly deeper voice, answered him.

  “I am Deluti.”

  Jamar collapsed back against the door and sighed. “It is as I feared. The Deluti are returning as foretold, and our lives will be forever changed.”

  Rising to his feet, he studied the young Deluti. “So be it. Come, it is after the mid-day meal, but hopefully there is something left to eat, and then I will introduce you to your slave.”

  Navon jumped to his feet, confused. “My slave?”

  “Yes. Fortunately, Elder Atora
cares not what you are, only for the welfare of his animals, and the Brothers. You will no longer waste time hauling buckets of water and feed, but concentrate on caring for our companions.”

  As they approached the common room, Jamar turned to Navon with another question. “Why have you come to the Shadhuin, Deluti?”

  “I am being tested.”

  “And if you fail this test?”

  “I die.”

  The elder stopped and searched the young man’s face. “Stay strong, Navon. I fear if you fail, your life will not be all that is lost.”

  ***

  The innkeeper lived up to Poppie’s guarantees, and treated them with the utmost respect. Sofia had already picked out the watcher, before Aaron, while quickly hiding their Dahlian coin, nodded in the direction of a man sitting in the corner and whispered, “Can’t be too careful.”

  The inn had separate bathing rooms for men and women. Aaron suggested they eat while the water heated for their baths. Sofia’s stomach was still a little unsettled, but Ronald and Floanne professed to be starving. The food was similar to what they ate at home, only the difference in seasoning marked it with a slight change in taste. After several bites, she fell into it with the same gusto as the other two.

  The few patrons displayed only a casual curiosity, and no one gave her sword a second glance. Ronald admitted he was concerned over the hardened leathers they wore. He knew nothing of how mercenaries acted in this country, and worried their ruse would soon be uncovered. That was the least of Sofia’s worries with the evil eating at the edge of her awareness.

  The innkeeper had given them two rooms on the second floor where they retired after a long, enjoyable bath. Ronald knocked on the adjoining door and poked his head in. Sofia sat with her back to Floanne who carefully wove the Princess’s hair into a single braid. Sofia had changed into a wide skirt with a high necked blouse hiding the amulet and chain.