The Pain of Compassion

by Roland Boykin

  A triumphant smile filled the Sergeant’s face. “Well, when you find out who this someone is, be sure to tell me right away. In the meantime, the ogre will be locked up to ensure the safety of the good people of this city.”

  The look of despair and resignation on Sebastian’s face when he turned to Ronald sparked an anger in the lieutenant he had never felt before. The completely innocent ogre would sacrifice his life so the others had a chance.

  “Tell Emma, I sorry be.” Sebastian whispered as he ducked through the door and was gone.

  Ronald slammed his fist on the table. “I swear by the Eye of Death, the Duke will feel the sting of my blade before this day is done!”

  Aaron quietly pulled out the chair he had abandoned earlier, sat down and studied the face of the man from Dahlian.

  “Who is Emma?”

  Chapter Twenty Six ~ Race Against Time

  This time, Navon countered the force of Emma’s stare with steel grey determination of his own. He did not look away.

  “I’ve never been to New Bratan, but I know it is at least a two day journey, even by horse. While I have gained abilities since we last parted, I have no idea how to accomplish what you ask.”

  A smile slowly spread over her face, matching the twinkle in her eye. “Yes, you have, and more than you know. But, I would not be here if I thought the task was impossible. I left the Capitol early this afternoon and arrived in time by using an old Deluti road that bypasses Twin Oaks.”

  “Show me.”

  She led him to the edge of the fields where his enhanced sight picked out the line of the ancient road where it cut through the forest. Kneeling, he scooped away handfuls of dirt, exposing a paving stone buried beneath. A soft glow emanated from the stone as he placed his hand upon it.

  For the first time, the spirit of the amulet spoke to him directly, as a dispassionate voice entered Navon’s mind. “Unlike the aquifer far below the Jewel of the Plains, this road needs constant attention. Feed your power into the mortar binding the stones together, human. The plants will wither. Use the energy released as they decay to feed power into the road ahead.”

  Something in the tone of the spirit’s voice raised the hairs on the back of Navon’s neck. “You don’t like me. Why?”

  “You are human. I am Deluti. I am not here to like or dislike, only to provide you with knowledge you couldn’t possibly discover on your own.”

  Sensing he would get nothing more from the spirit, the young Deluti did as instructed. He watched, fascinated, as a wave of destruction began to flow away from his hand. Plants of every size and description withered and died as the wave passed. In its wake, the stones continued to glow, marking the edge of the road.

  Attuned to his mood, Moonlight approached from behind and laid her muzzle on his shoulder, watching the glow as it sped into the distance.

  Her touch and the simple word of congratulations from Moshere was all Navon needed to cast off the words of the spirit. Tilting his head against hers for a moment, he stood and hurried towards the keep, Emma trotting at his side.

  “See, I knew you would figure it out.”

  He glanced down at her, but said nothing.

  By the time they entered the Keep, men were already gathering in the main dining hall. The aroma of a hastily prepared meal drifted through the door from the kitchen, and reminded Navon of how long it had been since his last meal. The cook’s apprentices set out stacks of bacon and eggs as fast as they could fry them. Travel pouches were also being filled with meat and cheese rolls wrapped in flatbread, along with fruit, and water skins.

  The Baron maintained a force of twenty men-at-arms, and it appeared Altair intended to send them all. The Keep’s healer arrived, smiled and clapped Navon on the shoulder on his way to the tables. The jovial old man never missed a chance to eat. All the others greeted the Baron’s youngest with curiosity, but held their questions. Altair finally returned carrying his gear and a bundle of folded clothes.

  He stopped in front of his brother and handed him the bundle. “The clothes you are wearing no longer suit you, either in fit or function. This is an outfit made for me long ago and only worn once. You are now Deluti, and what you wear should proclaim that. Here, try them on.”

  Navon remembered the special occasion clearly, and the outfit his brother had worn. He had dreamed, someday, he would have one as well. This gift meant more to him than he could find words to express. Speechless, he hurried upstairs to change in the privacy of his old room.

  He carefully laid out his new outfit on the bed and stripped off the old leathers he’d worn for so long. Navon knew he should hurry, but couldn’t help admiring his brother’s gift. The soft, cream colored shirt brought back memories of the Shadhuin garments he’d just given up.

  The black pants shimmered and fit perfectly. When he finished securing the ties on the front of the jacket, just a hint of lace perched above the collar and peeked out from the ends of his sleeves. He dusted off his pair of black dress boots, slipped them on, and kicked the old walking boots into a corner. On a whim, he positioned the amulet outside his shirt where it nestled in the gap at the top of his jacket perfectly.

  A hush fell over the hall as he entered. The patterns of gold trim sewn into the dark red coat came alive in the reflection of the flickering lamps. The Eye of the Deluti glowed, matching the golden patterns. A stripe of similar color sewn into the seams of his pants added an illusion of height.

  With one accord, Altair and the men stood up and bowed. Emma approached, smiled up at him in approval, and winked. She turned to address the men.

  “This is a momentous time for all of us, as the world is changing.” She glanced at Navon and then his brother. “While the name d’Roddell will always hold a treasured place in Navon’s heart, he was brought into this world to bear another. As a member of the Elder Races, I present to you, Lord Navon Deluti.”

  Altair, a smile threatening to split his face, clasped his brother’s hands, ignoring the scarred flesh. He leaned forward and whispered. “Is she always like this?”

  Navon glared down at her and whispered back. “No. Sometimes she’s worse.”

  Both laughed out loud when Emma stuck out her tongue and turned away grinning.

  Everyone quieted once again as she jumped up on a chair and faced them, all traces of merriment locked away. The first words out of her mouth insured their attention.

  “The King and your Lord, the Baron, are in grave danger. That is why we are here. I will tell you what I have witnessed myself and what we believe to be true. We have also come up with a tentative plan, but please hold your questions until I am done.”

  Soon after, the men of d’Roddell left on the best horses available with Navon and Emma up front carried by Moshere. The wolves ran alongside with grim determination foremost in everyone’s mind.

  ***

  Prince Mathias paced the length of his sitting room for the hundredth time that morning. He checked the hour glass again, just as he had every other time he reached that end. Was the sand still flowing? Could time possibly move any slower? He now had a greater appreciation for how a prisoner must feel knowing he is scheduled for execution.

  The portrait of the King, hanging over the mantle, mocked Mathias every time he glanced up at it. That his father was going to die was a foregone conclusion. If the Duke planned on becoming the new King, the old King would first have to be eliminated.

  What could he do? Tell Father his most trusted friend and advisor since childhood planned to murder him tonight, and maybe he should don his armor before going to the banquet? The King had already scoffed at the idea of wearing their swords, saying it was a celebration of peace between the two kingdoms, not a declaration of war.

  Mathias stopped and stared at his door. He had to leave this room, but where would he go? The disappearance of the guard the day before had set off a flurry of activity and concern. Now, every hallway was watched by a guard at both ends. Did they suspect him?

  Ret
urning to the large audience chamber would accomplish nothing. He already knew exactly how every table and chair was arranged. Thanks to spending hours with his mother and siblings last night going over seating for the guests, he knew where each potential victim would be seated.

  While his mother worried about seniority and political standing, his brother and sister concerned themselves with which eligible bachelor should sit next to which available daughter. The whole time, Mathias couldn’t stop wondering who would be targeted first.

  The Queen finally dismissed him, disgusted by his sour mood. She told him his mood would change once he met his new bride. He almost blurted out the truth, but wisely kept it to himself. It would change nothing. Mother still believed the Princess would be presented at the banquet as a surprise. That thought forced a sardonic smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. He could just imagine his mother’s expression when Sofia actually arrived.

  The Deluti. What did he really know about them? If he survived tonight, he would need to learn has much as possible, and quickly. With a destination in mind, Mathias headed for the library hoping he might find Rafael there. He needed a friend to talk to, and it was a good way to pass the time.

  Disappointment added to the already crushing burden of worry when he entered the empty library. Shoulders drooping, the Prince dragged his feet over to the cabinet and pulled out the two volumes of history Rafael had shown him. Even though it was strictly forbidden to remove the ancient texts, he decided to bring them back to his room. Who would care?

  Hours later, Mathias sat back from the history he had just read and sighed. Glancing at the hour glass, he cursed. “Damn, it does work.”

  ***

  Ronald continued to sit at the table long after Sebastian was gone. He quietly explained Emma’s abilities and relationship to the ogre as Aaron listened in wonder. The innkeeper would find out eventually anyway. The time for secrets was over. Unable to eat, Ronald pushed away his plate after what felt like o lifetime of trying to convince his stomach it wanted food.

  He still fumed over his inability to help the ogre. Even though he knew there was nothing he could have done, the look on Sebastian’s face, when they led him away, still burned in the Lieutenant’s memory. He had always prided himself as a patient man, but this time it was different. He had a score to settle.

  Ronald glanced up at the ceiling in the direction of their rooms and took a deep breath. The women would have to be told sooner or later, it might as well be now. He knocked on their door, announced himself and entered when he heard Sofia’s call. He closed the door behind him and stood there, unable to put his anger into words.

  Floanne sat at the table, occupied with a needlework project she had brought along. Sofia stood in her favorite spot staring out of the window. When he didn’t speak, she turned away from the view, saw the look on his face, and came to him. She had seen that look before when they found the farmer and his wife murdered.

  “What has happened?”

  Ronald closed his eyes and forced himself to calmly tell her. “Roll is missing. They found his cloak and the knife Sebastian gave him, in an alley this morning. Both were covered in blood. Because Sebastian admitted the knife was his, they arrested him for the murder of Poppie and took him away.”

  “Did you say anything?”

  The Lieutenant threw up his hands and started to pace. “I couldn’t say or do anything! I was afraid the guard would start asking questions I dared not answer. Nothing would please me more than to run into that sergeant this evening and wipe the smug look off his face.”

  Sofia grabbed her cloak and headed for the door. “We can’t do anything for Sebastian or Poppie right now, and I can’t take waiting in this room. I want to speak with Captain Gerrad. He has a way of finding information that might help us.” She turned to Floanne. “Will you be alright here alone?”

  Without looking up, Floanne shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Say hello to the Captain for me.”

  As they approached the Moon Shadow, Captain Gerrad hailed them and led the way to his cabin. Once seated inside, he got right to the point. “I wanted to warn you, there will be fighting in the streets tonight. The people of this city are fed up with the guard, and I don’t blame them. Those men are mean as snakes and don’t act like professionals at all.”

  Ronald and Sofia shared a look before she nodded to the Captain. “Thank you for the warning, Miles, but we were already aware. There will be other things happening tonight and that’s all I can tell you.”

  Miles sat back and smiled. “So you’re telling me I shouldn’t be surprised if a couple lightning bolts appear over the Capitol.”

  “I sincerely hope it doesn’t come to that,” she muttered, unable to share his humor. “We came here to ask you a favor.”

  “Very well.”

  “Do you know the boy, Poppie?”

  “Of course. Everyone knows Poppie.”

  “And Poppie knows everyone,” Ronald and Sofia recited together, this time bringing a smile to her face.

  “Yes, well, the guard claims Poppie was murdered, but they have no body. We think they are using it as an excuse to charge a friend of ours with the crime. We hope the boy is still alive and being held by the guard somewhere.”

  “If he is in one of the guard stations, we’ll find him. By the way, there is something else I wanted to tell you. A ship, known to do business with the Scarred Mage, pulled into port last night, but no one has come ashore. Very unusual.”

  The two got up to leave. “Thank you for the information, Miles. Keep an eye on that ship, if you can. We’ll check back later, and Miles, watch yourself.”

  Chapter Twenty Seven ~ A Deluti At The Gate

  For Navon, the night passed quickly as they traveled the ancient road. He and Moshere discussed possible actions they could take upon arriving at the Capitol. Moonlight, through images passed on from her sire, provided a glimpse into the abilities of the wolves. At the same time, he monitored the health of the horses, and provided a boost when necessary. All the while insuring the road ahead continued to clear.

  Several hours after they had begun their run, the spirit voice of the amulet once again entered Navon’s mind. “Your control is impressive, for a human,” he admitted, grudgingly. “But if the community of spirits intends for you to become the next High Lord, there are things you must learn.”

  The spirit proceeded to grill the young man on the proper attitude of a Deluti. Navon learned how to infuse words with power to accomplish his will, how subtle shifts in body language would influence others, and above all, the importance of remaining aloof. “The bonds you have formed will weaken you. A Deluti must never form an emotional bond, with anyone. You will spend eternity watching them grow old and die.”

  Navon rode in silence, mulling over what he had learned, before addressing the spirit. “I appreciate everything you have taught me, but in one thing you are wrong. I am not like you and never will be. I am human. The bonds I have formed give me strength. Without them, my body may continue to live, but my soul will die.”

  When next they stopped to rest the horses, he spent the time with his arm around Moonlight, reassuring her of his devotion. They continued on in silence.

  Navon woke up Emma and urged Moshere to slow when the back of the inn came into view. If he never had to travel like that again, it would be too soon. The pace he had set was steady but grueling. He released his hold on her and grimaced as the feeling slowly returned to his arm. Emma stretched and yawned, and then waved to the men coming out of the inn, who waved in return.

  “The innkeeper’s name is Harold. I never had time to learn the others. They are all good men, and I believe will help anyway they can.”

  Altair rode up alongside as they reached the inn and all dismounted, the men walking their mounts. Navon slid off Moshere’s back and reached up to lift Emma down. She smiled in thanks, and the three of them turned to face the innkeeper.

  The whole time, Harold watched in wonder as t
he pack of mountain wolves drank from the water trough and then laid down in the shade. He whispered to one of the men who ran back inside the inn.

  “You made it!” he beamed. “We heard you coming, and have prepared a light meal. I will have something for the wolves shortly.”

  Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Emma yawned again and shrugged her shoulders at Harold’s knowing smile. “Thank you, Harold. That wasn’t necessary, but is greatly appreciated.” She turned to the young man at her side. “Let me introduce Lord Navon Deluti, who cleared the road for us, and his companions, Moonlight and Moshere.”

  The innkeeper didn’t hesitate to bow to all three, and then reached out to shake Altair’s hand.

  “Altair d’Roddell, and these are my men. Your thoughtfulness will be repaid, innkeeper. You have my word as a Roddell.”

  Navon glanced up at the sun, and then shared a look with his brother who nodded in unspoken agreement. “I’m afraid the plan must change. There is not enough time for the men to walk to the city.” Moshere and the wolves gathered behind him. “We will continue on now. Follow as soon as you are ready, and ride straight to the inn. Emma, if you would, please ride with Altair and guide them.”

  “But Navon, what of the men guarding the gate?”

  He pulled himself up on Moshere, and in a grim voice, replied. “They will either leave or die, their choice. Now, how do I find the Palace?”

  “Follow the evil.”

  ***

  The noon meal sat on the table, untouched, and the remains of the hourglass lay shattered inside the fireplace. Time no longer had meaning for Mathias as he stared up at his father’s portrait.

  “Sorry, Father,” he whispered. “I’ve done what I can, but I’m afraid it won’t be enough to save you. One thing I can promise, I will protect Mother with every breath I take.”

  The chain mail he’d secreted beneath the finery of his outfit weighed down not only his shoulders, but his soul as well. It and the knives he had hidden would provide little protection from arrows or swords, but he would fight with dinner plates if he had to.