Eventually, the sounds of clanking metal was heard and I saw sentinels arrive, nearby witnesses already relaying to them what had happened. One of the sentinels approached me and asked if I fared well. I gave him a silent nod and then he was off. I watched him dart off down the street, following his comrade.
My attention then was drawn to a wizened elvess, who very kindly, offered to give me compensation for my lost coin, when suddenly, I heard another voice… A voice I recognised. A voice that turned my stomach into an even tighter knot.
I looked up and there stood Jay. He was hooded, a hilt of a longblade sticking out above his shoulder. He didn’t smile. He appeared calm, though his expression was intent, and I was suddenly nervous.
“I will purchase this lady’s food,” he said, eyes now falling to the old elvess. He smiled at her. “Thank you, my lady,” he said.
Jay immediately turned to face the owner of the bakery and I saw him point to some of the delicacies on display whilst I awkwardly thanked the old elves. She was watching closely, making me very aware of how much of a risk I was taking by lingering here, especially now that all attention had suddenly fallen on me.
When I looked towards Jay again, I saw him hand the baker some coin before receiving his purchase. He turned and handed me a chunk of bread that was smothered in a silvery frosting and wrapped in thin paper at the bottom.
“Let us get out of here,” he said, his tone commanding; leaving me unable to argue.
I followed him up the road until eventually, the two of us found ourselves alone in an alley; narrow and bare. Whilst I nibbled on my breakfast, my appetite eroding, I couldn’t look Jay in the eyes; eyes that were now fixed on me.
“Stase,” he said flatly, willing me to look up at him.
At last I raised my eyes and saw that his expression was solemn. I noticed the hurt there too, the hurt that even now, he tried so hard to hide behind a mask of stone.
“You ran away,” he said.
I nodded.
“Why?”
I couldn’t look at him anymore. I cast my head down and shook my head, feeling my emotions were about to betray me.
“This is not what I want,” I heard myself say.
He didn’t respond. When I looked up again, I lost all control. The tears in my eyes began to fall. “I just want to be with my friends.” as I said it, I knew that despite it being what I wanted, the reality was that even this could not be attained because of the night that I had run from the Destroyer!
Jay looked away and for a long time he did not speak. I backed away and turned around, wanting to have this interaction done with. I headed for the mouth of the alley, the street just a few feet beyond, when Jay called out. I turned around and looked at him.
“Don’t leave,” he said softly.
A tear was slithering down my cheek now. “I will, Jay,” I said. I turned around again, and I never looked back.
Chapter 12
At last Liberation Day was here and the festivities had commenced as early as dawn. Today’s Karnaea was a spectacle that outshone the days that had led up to it, the attractions and displays designed to emphasise the last day, to highlight Alepion’s most sacred holiday and to draw huge crowds.
And yet, looking now upon the multiple empty seats spread out over the stands where I and Lardian sat, it was clear that no matter the importance of a day like today, fear had kept people away, drawing many out of the city.
Since the Headline broadcasted Old Way activists in Evennal, the people had become fretful - more so as Liberation Day drew nearer - for like those who worshiped the Whispering God, the Dead God followers themselves were sentimental, for regardless of belief, all Moon Elves had been set free from the yoke of the Strangers of Old, over five thousand years ago. Yet whilst those who remained devout to Adonai credited him for the Great Liberation, those who held fast to the old gods, perceived Adonai’s hand in their redemption with more sceptical convictions, would give glory to the Dead Gods instead.
The difference however, in how each side paid homage, was while the rest of us would honour Adonai with feasting, competing and fellowship, the Dead God followers would seek to appease their gods with blood. The people knew this, and so came as a result, the truancy of today’s Karnaea.
Just now, the Champion Pit was underway, being a gruesome and violent confrontation and while the stares of the few bystanders that had shown up were intrigued and engrossed, all I had a mind for was to search for Stasanda. I wanted just a glimpse of her, despite the pain I knew it would cause me.
Would she come? I wondered.
“Teegs is missing out,” Lardian commented. It took a curt call for my attention to get a response from me.
“Ah. Pardon?” I said, now feigning interest in the fight progressing below us.
“Tegerian,” said Lardian, sounding deeply pensive. “He hasn’t joined us yet.”
I shrugged, not in the least concerned. “Not our problem,” I said, adding, “Teegs is his own elf. He doesn’t need us to worry about his comings and goings.” Admittedly, I was relieved, for whilst lapsed in my state of melancholy, I was in no mood for his quirks, his low cunning and his easy laughs.
“Yes. But where do you think he has gone?”
I shrugged again. “Who knows?”
The Champion Pit was at last concluded with the win of the Lemonstar, who as had been expected, was left to face off against the Higher of Hollow Dens.
The match had been riveting. Even in my current state, I hadn’t been able to pry my eyes away from it, my prediction over the match’s result, while the duel had still commenced, was a victory to the Higher. But at the final moment, the Lemonstar unleashed a sudden fury that none of us had expected, enough to secure the win for himself instead.
When Lardian and I made our way back, Lardian’s theory over how the Lemonstar had managed to turn the fight, was due to the pride that made up the infamous Lemonstar tempers.
“The Lemonstar knew that he was about to lose and so he became desperate, while the Higher had too early assured himself of his victory.” Lardian shook his head in disappointment, “He let his guard down.”
Lardian sounded convinced, whilst I, for his sake, doned a façade of invested listener; determined to keep my sorrow in check, not wanting it to spill out in my voice or show on my expression.
All I could think of was Stasanda. I was still shocked by how our situation had turned out; the optimist in me completely rattled and dazed.
Had she managed to slip out of the city with the people this morning? I wondered. Or was she still here?
I reckoned Stase was gone. Leaving amidst the crowds would have been prudent. But deep down, I hoped she was still around and that I would get to see her, for I wanted final words. I wanted to say goodbye.
“A shame the Lemonstar didn’t received his Champion Crown from the Elder,” Lardian was saying now, adding with clear indignation, “What a mess this entire event has been! Having the Karnaea in Asher Rise? Then the Elder falling sick, attending only the first day!” Lardian regarded me with suggestive hands at the outrage of the whole affair. “Then of course this nonsense with the Old Way being discovered in the city - a city governed by a deacon!”
By the time we saw the metal sign of the Landa Inn swinging on its hinges; making a harsh, squeaky metal sound, the last bit of sun had bled out over the horizon, the darkness of night slowly descending.
We made our way up the stairs that lead to our room. When we entered, I strode to the centre table and slumped myself on the nearest chair, deep in thought while aware of the awkward tension thickening in the air as Lardian stood nearby, silent, apparently having discerned the cause for my current mood. But when suddenly Lardian announced that he was going to go outside and look for Tegerian, my state of self-reflection was put on pause and I looked at him aghast.
“You can’t go out at night by yourself, Lardian,” I said, my tone suggesting a reprimand.
“You are more than welcom
e to come with me,” he replied, his tone holding an underlying acknowledgement that I wasn’t about to do that.
I frowned at him, pointing out, “It’s Liberation Day. If the Old Way have not struck already, they will this evening.” And yet, despite my words, I watched Lardian don his cloak.
He suddenly paused, and I saw a look of concern shroud his solemn expression. “You think that is why Teegs wasn’t able to join us? You think he has found himself a victim of some Old Way sacrifice?”
I looked down. I didn’t want to even consider that right now. “I don’t know,” I said. I looked up again when I heard Lardian move across the room. “But if you go, you risk becoming a victim too.”
Lardian’s mouth curved into a sly smile. “Well then, perhaps allow me to take your greatfather’s longblade? For protection.”
In my current mood, I wasn’t concerned about Lardian using my greatfather’s weapon. Usually though, I was dead set on not allowing anyone to even touch it, let alone handle it. Just now, however, Lardian could do whatever he wanted.
I waved a hand. “Fine. Just keep it safe.” I heard Lardian head back into my room whilst I stared aimlessly at the floor near the hearth, considering now that perhaps I should keep the blade with me.
What if Stase was still in the city? What if she was in danger? What if I decided to go looking for her?
She was out there all alone. She would be a perfect target for the Old Way. I shook the thought away. I was determined not to go and seek her out, lest I appear like some pining and pathetic fool!
“Keep the door closed,” said Lardian on his way out.
A disturbing thought occurred to me before Lardian could leave. I called to him without turning.
“What if Teegs has been in league with the Old Way this entire time?”
Though myself and Lardian had shared history together, Tegerian on the other hand, had only stepped into our lives on the road towards Evennal… We hardly knew him…
There was a moment of disquieting silence until Lardian spoke. “Well then it is a good thing I have your greatfather’s longblade.” He turned and closed the door behind him and just like that, I was alone. Alone with nothing but the memory of Stasanda, who had indeed ensnared me. That was clear to me now. And it was my fault.
Fool!
I sat there quietly while the darkness of the night deepened ardently. I was too preoccupied with my thoughts to consider lighting a candle but when suddenly an idea came to me, I got up and did exactly that, for it was my intention to I write Stace a letter.
I found a candle and lit it. I then went in search for a single layer of parchment and after I heated our inkpot, I made myself comfortable at the centre table of our room and began to pour out my heart.
Once done, I got up and went to the door but before I left the room, something caught my eye. It was a vase of white roses. The roses were a gesture of good will from the owners of the Inn that in light of today being Liberation Day, each room received their share. Just now, I picked one of the roses and left.
At Stasanda’s door, I took in a deep breath - trying to steady my racing heart. I wasn’t sure if I was ready to find that her luggage was inside, for it would tell me that she was probably still in the city. But in the same breath, I wasn’t sure if I was ready to find that there was no luggage; rendering my intentions with this letter null and void, for if I couldn’t find her luggage, it meant she was already gone.
I put some weight against the door, moments away from breaking it open, expecting that it was locked, when surprisingly, the door swung to the side. I frowned and walked forward, cautious at entering a room that was as pitch black as mine had been before I had lit that candle.
I heard a noise and stopped. My heart was racing. I could hear nothing but the sound of my steady breath, until… the noise again… I quietly and slowly walked in the direction where I perceived the noise had come from and was anxious when I found I was headed towards the bedchamber that Stasanda had shared with Alardia.
Gently, I pressed the side of my face against Stasanda’s door. There was something happening on the other end, some activity. I heard a muffled sound. I heard springs of a bed and as the sounds conjured up in my head, a scenario that made me sick and angry at the same time, I kicked the door open and barged right into Stasanda’s room.
The noise I had heard whilst the door had been closed came to a sudden stop and at first glance, I didn’t see anyone, for the room was dark but for two tiny candles on opposite ends. Then my gaze was pulled to the bed and my heart dropped, as did the letter and the rose in my hands.
Stasanda lay on her back; legs and arms spread and tied to the bed posts. I stepped closer but drew back when I noticed that she laying completely naked. Instinctively, I withdrew my gaze from her exposed body but not for long, for my eyes found hers again while she emitted sounds of desperation. It was only then that I saw that she had been gagged and I realised that the muffled sounds I had heard behind the door moments ago, had been cries of distress.
“Stase!” I came quickly to the side of the bed, her head shaking frantically, the sounds she gave pleading.
“Who did this to you?” I asked fiercely, my hand reaching to remove her gag so that she could speak.
“I did,” came a voice suddenly.
Startled, I looked up. Directly in front of me, on the other side of the bed, where the darkness of the room was thickest, a shadow crept forward. I recognised that voice, but my mind refused to acknowledge the face that went with it. Instead, my mind offered up a different one.
“Teegs?” I choked out, disbelieving.
The shadow came into the light and Lardian’s face materialized out of the darkness. My anger showed on my face, concealing the shock I felt rushing through my entire body.
“You went looking for Tegerian,” I said, frowning, not understanding.
“I went looking for my people,” his head turned to look down at Stase. “But I found her instead, trying to sneak into her room.” Lardian looked back at me. “It was too good of an opportunity to miss.”
I began to sneer. Friend or not, I wanted to kill him. And I would: Stase’s life depended on it.
“The whole time you deceived us. You deceived me.” I said, coming around the bed, intending to engage in a violent struggle with this traitor.
“I did,” said Lardian, adding, “about where my allegiance lay, but never anything else. I swear it, Jay. You might not hold fast to the old gods, but that doesn’t mean you and I cannot still be friends in the morning.” Seeing the intent on my face, Lardian added, “unless you intend not to have a morning?”
I rushed at him, but in my anger, I forgot my greatfather’s longblade. Due to the darkness of the room, I didn’t see its steel until it was too late. The longblade cut a well-aimed gash in my throat and I immediately clutched the wound with my hands; falling on my knees right before Lardian and from the sight of his bare legs, I realized that he had been in the process of removing his clothes before I had entered.
“Like I told you, Jay,” I heard Lardian say, Stase’s muffled cries causing me the most pain, “You’re not her saviour.” Lardian shoved me back and as I hit the floor, I felt a great sense of dizziness wash over me – my world beginning to spin.
Behind me, I vaguely heard someone enter the room. This was confirmed when Lardian jumped back.
“You!” he exclaimed, but before I could discern who it was that had made Lardian sound so outraged, I closed my eyes - the echoes of muffled distress being the last thing I ever heard.
Epilogue
The doors were opened for me and I was weary. I walked into the foyer, carefully holding the letter and the rose. I was not pleased to see the Whitesongs sitting there on the couches, seemingly waiting for me apparently at great length, judging by their stiff postures and sombre expressions. I was utterly exhausted, and I desired some rest before I spoke to them of what had happened this night.
Upon my entrance, the Whitesongs
stood up. The father and his son looked upon me with expectant eyes, whilst mine swerved from them to the sentinels who guarded the entrance to the private chambers of the Deacon of Asher Rise. It was them that I first addressed.
“You lot may leave now.”
The sentinels all nodded and headed out of the foyer without a word. As for the Whitesongs, the head – Tadian - walked boldly up to me.
“Blademaster,” he said. “How did it go?”
Tadian was an agent of the White Whisperers, a secret order dedicated to the downfall of all Old Way members.
I looked past Tadian to his son, whose name was Tegerian, an informer of his father. When our eyes met, a wave of sorrow flooded my heart, for I knew that the youngster was to suffer the brunt of what I had to say. Because of that fact alone, I was hesitant to speak.
“Follow me,” I commanded, taking two steps and pushing the doors of the Deacon’s chamber wide open, entering without a moment’s pause.
“Blademaster!” protested Tadian in alarm. “We can’t. The El—”
“Is not here,” I finished for him, coming to the desk by the wall, tossing the letter and the rose upon its wooden surface. I looked over my shoulder and watched the two Whitesongs walk inside as if they were entering a den of predators. The look of caution followed by confusion on Tadian’s face, was not surprising.
“The Elder?” he said, frowning. Tadian glanced behind him to where the sentinels had stood, then again, he looked inside, eyes now fixed on the great vacant bed that took up the centre of the room. “We thought he was sick? Ailed by some stomach flu?”
I regarded Tadian’s son while unclipping my moonshined-blade. “Help me out of this,” I commanded, eager to relieve my body of the weight in which my hauberk bore upon my shoulders. I placed my weapon near the rose and the letter while the youngster got into position, his father Tadian now speaking with earnest.
“Blademaster…” he said, adding in a more placate voice; “Senistar. Where is Dayane? Where is the Elder?”
The Broken Rose Page 8
