by M A Price
“I’m a man of very little colour Your Majesty.”
“Interesting then, what would make a man who prefers black choose to mix it with the King’s red?” Reyn raised his perfectly formed eyebrows, Samiah noticeably switched her weight between legs, shuffling uncomfortably.
“I suppose any decision a man makes could be defined as interesting if you think about the details enough,” Jaxon replied quickly.
Reyn threw back his head and chuckled mercilessly “Quite, Mr Rowdedge, anyway I should leave you two lovebirds alone for the evening. I’d suggest you improve your sneaking skills in the future though Jaxon, just in case someone a little less forgiving finds you.” He bowed his head to Samiah, who curtsied and watched him walk away with a doe-like expression. “Oh Samiah, I hope you liked those nutrient bars I gave you. Do let me know if you need anymore.”
Samiah just tittered again. The sound made Jaxon feel a little sick.
For any other situation he would have perfected a condescending ‘really?’ look for when Samiah turned back towards him, but instead he let himself smirk and walked into her room. She didn’t complain about him not asking for permission and simply followed shutting the large white door behind her.
“Why were you with him?”
She walked around the bed and took her robe from the small stool next to the wooden vanity which took up the whole corner. This room was bigger than his own, but still made him feel slightly claustrophobic. Her robe, like the walls, the bed furs and most other things were all varying shades of red. Loyal to the King until the end.
“Are you jealous Jax? That wasn’t part of our arrangement. We are friends who –”
“No, I am not jealous and I am aware of what we are to each other, and I’m perfectly content with us being friends… but…” Jax sighed. Honestly, he’d been meaning to discuss this with her for some time. Friends they should be; anything further, perhaps not. Their night out had shown him that. He couldn't pretend to feel what Samiah deserved someone to feel for her. He couldn't let himself feel that for anyone. Not whilst he hid here, it was far too dangerous; for them, and for him.
“I thought not,” she looked at the floor, the briefest flash of misery playing across her features. “Then why do you care?”
“I’m worried about you.”
She swore loudly at him and made an offensive gesture with her hand before she pulled the robe tighter against her muscled frame.
“Did I say something wrong?”
She snorted. Jaxon moved himself around the bed to sit in front of where she stood, hooking his leg around the stool to pull it out for her.
“Samiah, talk to me please,” he pleaded.
After another grunt she slid down onto the stool and looked at him. He was an enigma to her; the guard who played with her heart, but she knew nothing about, yet she sensed there was something different about him and it probably wasn’t good. For her mind, heart or plans. He made her question the things she had always believed in, to forget the aspirations that had driven her since she was a child. To forget why she herself had ended up in these palace walls and her promise to shake off her own past. The past she could never tell him of.
“If you must know, Reyn has no interest in me in that way. I’m not his type and not just because I’m some palace guard.”
“You’re not just some palace guard Samiah,” he went to reach for her but thought better of it. “Do you mean he is gay?”
“Is that all you care about Jaxon?” Her anger subsided as soon as it had arrived. “I think he needed a friend and we got talking one night when he came into the training room. He is lonely and worried about his family and what to do here and Jax…he asks about you.”
“Me?!”
“Yes…I didn’t really notice at first but you get dropped into conversation a lot. He even asked me if I knew much about your family or how you ended up here,” she looked away now “…It sort of made me realise that I don’t…friends or not, I don’t really know you.”
He wanted to tell her that she was wrong, that of course she knew him, she was the closest person left on this side of the sea that knew him but he couldn’t bring himself to lie.
The fear of the Prince’s questions was suddenly overwhelmed by the shame of Samiah’s words and a pit of loneliness in his stomach which threatened to swallow him whole.
Instead he muttered an apology as he ran from the room as quickly as he could. This time not caring if he was caught; in his haste missing the fact Reyn Landress hadn’t wandered very far at all.
Sixteen - Katanya
Yenna and Fendir hadn’t been unkind as they pulled her along. Fendir even quietly murmuring that it was good to see her. He had put on weight since she had last saw him, but the feeling was mutual, despite the situation. His face had been one she had known all her life.
Her sword had been taken, her entire belt with its ring of daggers too. Most of them didn’t matter; they could be replaced if necessary. One dagger though had been a present from Kyllian and she would do whatever was needed to make sure it was returned. She was more worried about Ballaca; presumed she was with Lorren and hoped he would take good care of her. He hadn’t always been a people person when she knew him, bar for Fendir, but he had always loved the animals. He had even refused to eat a Clorix on a hunting trip.
The memories that were flooding her were the hardest part. The part she hadn’t really anticipated. It had been bad enough whilst traveling and seeing Marius but to actually be confronted with these people...
Little things she thought she had forgotten were coming back, shredding through her defences as if they were nothing. She’d trained long and hard to control her mind, to get through anything. It was unexpected. Unwanted. She thought of Yenna smiling as she had taught her how to shoot. Of Camrin chasing her around their old camp, ever in competition, always wanting Ivloch to declare who the bravest or fastest was. It was the memories of Ivloch that were hardest to keep at bay, as every step took her closer to seeing him.
To be reunited with the father figure that one swore never to see again was not a thing to take lightly. She could feel a nervous energy coursing through her; her power building in the pit of her stomach ready to answer a threat. Wanting to unleash itself; forgetting that her mind and body were tired and needing rest.
They came to a stop. She could smell and hear people around her. The sound of Ballaca’s hooves passing. Someone let go of her, Yenna it seemed, but Fendir’s reluctant grip didn’t budge.
“She’s err… just checking they’re ready for you.”
“Have they ever been ready for me Fendir?”
“I doubt it miss, but that’s part of your charm.”
One person didn’t seem to hate the sight of her. That was something.
Hands she imagined to be Camrin’s dragged her in. She could feel exasperation from their owner. It had to be strong for her power to read it, she had never envied the Users who could read the subtleties of emotion with ease. She thought them unluckier than her or all the rest of the hunted.
She was brought to a chair, pushed into it roughly. She bit her lip; let Camrin have his moment. A person started to unbind her hands, a gentle touch. Her blindfold came last. It was Ivloch’s face she looked into.
Big, round, sun marked but familiar. It was thinner than she recalled, older too. The greys in both his hair and beard more pronounced; twelve moon turns without Becca had aged him far more than leading Kara’s Guild had in twenty-three years. He was wearing a brown tunic, long sleeves covering both his arms and breeches, no armour in sight. The legs of his breeches were tucked into his boots and his collar turned down instead of up. Some things certainly didn’t change.
What she didn’t expect was the kindness in his face as he loomed over her. He was happy to see her; the emotion pouring out of him. It radiated into her; her power’s resolve weakening to its touch.
She averted her eyes, instead gazing around her surroundings. It was the same pavilion
, set up identically, just in a different location. Even without Becca…he had made it appear as if she was still there.
Just in case she could ever come home.
Camrin was the only other person present, seated at Ivloch’s desk. That he had been allowed to do so sent a horrible jolt of jealousy through her chest. He was agitated, annoyed with Ivloch for not casting her out and calling her a traitor. If things were reversed perhaps, she would have felt the same.
“Of all the ruddy surprises today,” Ivloch exclaimed. He pulled himself a wooden stool from the table and sat before her. He was still three times her size, far too big for the seat.
The Katanya of old, still holding on somewhere inside her, wanted to reach out and touch him. To hug him. She wouldn’t let her win.
“Your shirt is a mess.”
“Always is when I’m left unattended. You should remember that.”
“I do.” She remembered everything and hated herself for it.
“Get to your message.” Camrin cut in. Ivloch huffed but the leader in him took over and he waited expectantly.
“It was about six moon turns ago, Elex contacted me. She asked me to meet her and I consented. She told me it was about Becca…” she tried to hide a blush at the emotion in her voice, but thought she failed. “She was lying, as Elex did. I thought this whole thing was another piece of crap, another crazy plan of hers that would never happen but again, much like her, she surprised me and I received a message she’d gone through with it. That she was dead. You should know I didn’t get told that part. She told me she would be captured. Nothing more.”
It meant something that they understood she hadn’t helped her do what she’d done. It didn’t matter, not really, she’d be leaving but…it felt wrong, to have them think she could do such a thing, too much of a bitter pill to swallow.
Ivloch grunted in approval. "I was left a note of her plan. No mention of you Kat. Why not tell me whatever this is then? I don't need to tell you how stupid her being captured would have been either. The fact she wasn't is the only ruddy good thing in all of this."
Katanya hadn't much cared at the time; she wasn't even sure if she did now. The fact that Elex had left Ivloch a note rattled her, but she refused to contemplate what that meant or try to understand what Elex's real play had been. To think like her was always a dangerous activity.
“The first thing I was meant to tell you both was that she was sorry. She knew it wouldn’t mean much at this point but wanted it said all the same. That part makes more sense now.” Camrin hit the desk in front of him. Ivloch just sighed. “The second was to tell you to take care of Mara. That there is a reason she passed it on to her; one you apparently and quite dramatically, I must add, have to find out on your own.”
“She could have written that in the note to Ivloch.” Camrin’s words were clipped. He wanted more. Needed more.
“She could have, but she didn’t did she? She wanted me to tell you. I owed her a debt, so I am here. I’ll happily go afterwards. There was only one other thing. She knew Kara’s crown…it’s not in Torlung like you think it is.”
They stared, both open mouthed. Kara’s emblem was well known to be one of the objects The Unforgiven sought, the remains of the crown she had worn herself, said to be a crucial part in the spell of binding their spirits. Important to one day remove the barrier around Brodanna. Even before she had left, she knew Ivloch believed it was being held in the Torlung Facility; the one she herself had fled from, had vowed she would never return to again. Except for Becca. She had been willing for her.
“Elex found out before Tonkara but didn’t want to tell you. She thought it would ruin her plan but it isn’t there. The Unforgiven, Jefferson…they don’t have it.”
“Why wouldn’t she tell us that?” Camrin sounded sad, lonely, bitter.
“What do you want me to say? That she was selfish? Manipulative? She was. She just…wanted to do things her way for a change.” That Katanya could understand.
All the years of her and Elex knowing each other had been tumultuous at best, hideous at their worst. The rivalry, the jealousy, the hate…they had never moved past it. The love never enough. Elex had never enjoyed being who she was, something she had admitted in their more tender moments, more than once. If she wanted to stop being a pawn and choose her own destiny then who was Katanya to say that was wrong? It didn’t make all that came before mean any less. It meant she was gone; the good and the bad she left in the world would stay. Camrin was evidence enough of that.
Ivloch stood, began his characteristic pacing; towards the bed, with its unmade sheets, and back this time. Becca would have hated that. She could imagine her there, yelling at him, making the bed, an affectionate ruffle of his shaggy head at the end.
“Thank you for telling us Kat, that means our plans have to change somewhat.” Ivloch’s legs brought him in front of her again. “Camrin, can you give us a moment please? I was supposed to lead training this afternoon. If you could take my place.”
Camrin left, his distaste for the orders evident.
“I’ve missed you Kat.”
She couldn’t meet Ivloch’s eyes. That face, it was so full of love for her. It had been a long time since anyone looked at her with anything close to affection.
“I sent a scout to look for you. I knew you were in the old house. I just wanted to make sure you were alive.” She had known. Had caught them as soon as they got there and sent them away. Threatened them never to say they had spoken to her.
“Has there been any news of Becca?” She had to ask.
“I know she’s still alive but…” 'Nothing more' didn’t need to be added. “It gets harder without her. Without you.”
“Elex hasn’t made it easier.”
“Did she ever?”
“No.” It was true. Elex always liked to take the hard road; always fighting her own demons. “What is this Mara like?”
Ivloch held his head in his hands, his blessing band glinting in the light. An exasperated sigh escaped his lips. “She’s…nice. Terrified. Whatever they did to her in that Facility hasn’t hit home yet and she’s untrained. She barely used her power before they took her. She’s only just learning how to wield a weapon too.” He sounded like he was going to cry. “I ruddy need you Kat. I need you here with me because we are losing this damn thing and the war hasn’t even started yet. I need someone to train her and you’re the best ruddy User I know. We can’t do this without you.”
There were tears on his cheeks when she finally dared to look. She had known Ivloch Youchnore for the twenty-two Moon Turns she had been alive. He adopted her the day her parents were murdered. He had given her away at her blessing. He had taught her how to fight, how to hide her power, and how to let people in. Had nursed her in the days after Kyllian's loss. Had found her again when she escaped Torlung. She had witnessed him lose the love of his life and the woman he did everything for.
She had never once seen him cry.
“You’re the only person I can talk honestly to that isn’t Becca; things are not going well. We might not win this. The Guild doesn’t have enough soldiers or power. The Unforgiven are strong and the people know nothing. I need your help with Mara and I need your help here. Please Katanya?”
She was rendered speechless. Ivloch issued orders; not pleas.
This wasn’t how this was supposed to go.
Seventeen - Jaxon
The moons since their dungeon duty had felt like they lasted a moon turn each.
He had avoided the dungeons so far, always outside and never meeting their charge.
The morning hadn’t gone well either.
He met his team outside, all except Tyr who was on duty. He’d wanted to discuss the day with them, possibly change some of the rotations but another unit had also been present. They were angry and seemed to be arguing with an Unforgiven. An irresponsible or heroic move, Jaxon wasn't sure. The men and women had screamed for their missing comrade. A fight broke out.
It didn’t last long, Jaxon ordered his men in between them. The Unforgiven seemed to back away upon their arrival, unsure of how much more of its power should be unleashed, its brief display had already left all those who stood against him bloody and broken on the floor. Jaxon and Jala helped pull them up, leaving his uniform covered in blood. A redness that had smeared across his face.
He sent Joseon to take them to a healer and Samiah and Jala straight to the Dungeons, Samiah had nodded gravely but muttered no complaint as Jala fell into step behind her. He excused the others and made his way towards the dormitory, blaming what covered him for his slipping away. It would have been easier to change in the guard’s lounge but the less questions the better. Someone might notice the scars covering his torso and that would open up an entirely new line of questioning to anguish over. He wasn’t remotely in the mood.
Some had noticed them before and he had used excuses, an accident as a child, a fight gone wrong…but he knew they were paper thin and he always lacked conviction.
Samiah had asked many times, Arabella a few. Other women…it was always a conversation topic. They liked to run their hands down his chest, across his abdomen and ask of the story as if they were the first and the last to do so. Jaxon always knew differently but he obliged the fantasy nonetheless; that’s what they all knew it was. A stolen hour to pretend they led a different life.
There was no mirror to gaze at his reflection to see exactly where the blood had landed and he could feel an urge burning inside him. It had been there for moons threatening to explode, making him wary, but this morning – this morning made him angrier than ever and he needed to let it out; even just for a second. He concentrated hard on his face, moving his right hand directly in front of it.
He had never been trained, bar some soft words whispered by his mother late at night. She’d always told him to keep it a secret; from his father, from everyone. But he had picked things up, things she had told him and things he had accidentally done, experiments gone wrong… Removing things had been a talent he discovered at the age of ten after his sister, Myka, had decided to pour the contents of her art tray over his head.
