The Prince of the Veil

by Hal Emerson

  “Even after everything,” she replied, holding his gaze with her own, steady and strong. He nodded, and smiled a real smile that she returned. A soaring feeling lifted his chest, and he felt himself stand taller. He leaned forward and kissed her, reveling once more in the knowledge that he could do that anytime he wanted. He ran his fingers through her hair, and she ran a hand down his cheek.

  “There you are,” rumbled a familiar voice.

  They turned to see Tomaz walking down the long pillared hallway toward them, a red cape billowing behind him. After the death of Jaillin, Stannit, and numerous other officers in the attack on Lucien, Autmaran had been unable to find competent replacements, and in turn begged Tomaz to fill in until one could be found. After talking with Leah, he’d acquiesced, and was now Captain Banier.

  “Tomaz!” Leah cried out, just as surprised as Raven was. She moved forward to greet him, Raven only a few steps behind, and grabbed his arm in greeting, almost as if to confirm he was real. “Shadows and fire, what are you doing here?”

  “Watch your language,” Raven said with a small smile, “we’re in the presence of a captain now.”

  “Stop that now, princeling,” Tomaz rumbled, smiling too, but as the old term of endearment rolled off his tongue, he froze and suddenly looked away, shifting awkwardly.

  “It’s all right,” Raven said slowly. He swallowed past a lump in his throat. “Don’t worry about it.”

  “So – why are you here?” Leah asked again, filling the space. “Not that it’s not good to see you – it is, I’ve truly missed you – but this is the first time you’ve visited since escorting us here.”

  “Escorting me here,” Raven said softly, “you’re just a guest.”

  They both ignored him.

  “I had some time on my hands,” the big man rumbled. “There’s a lot to do, but now that most of the city is in hand the Kindred are being rotated out for a few days. We’re trying to see how the city gets along without us.”

  “How are things in Lucien?” Raven asked, honestly curious. “Last we heard the Trials had all been held.”

  “Yes,” Tomaz sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall that framed the wide window, looking out at the ship as they had. “All of the Most High, High Blood, and Elevated were rounded up. All that survived, at least. By unanimous decision of the Elders, Generals, and the new Lucien government, they were held to the standards of the Exiled Kindred. Every man or woman who owned or bought a slave was hanged. That was most of them … though we went through them all, one by one. There were a few who we either had no evidence against, or who actually turned out to be good people – a few even asked to swear the vows and become Kindred. I’ve met one or two – they were in the early stages of organizing a way to smuggle slaves out of Lucien itself to safety in the southern cities. Can you believe that? They’re surprisingly decent.”

  “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Leah muttered, rubbing her temple. She did that now from time to time – she said her head ached when she thought too hard about the future – it was too easy to see all the possibilities.

  The Aspects changed her. They changed all of us.

  “Which families?” Raven asked, but changed his mind. “No – forget it, it doesn’t matter. I don’t want anything to do with it yet.”

  Raven noticed Tomaz shift as if uncomfortable, but he remained silent.

  “What about the Commons?” Leah asked. “How are they?”

  “They’re not Commons anymore,” Tomaz rumbled with a smile. “The term is banned from all official documentation. They were allowed to assume the name of whichever city they felt they belonged to, and many of them decided to be called Kindred and swore a modified version of the oaths. The Elders imposed the same laws that apply in Vale, most of which were greeted with cheers when they were read out, and were confirmed a few weeks ago by the new Lucien Kindred. The city is being cleared pretty quickly, and a new one is being built out of what was left behind. Elder Stanton is heading it; he’s working wonders. Some of the others organized grain shipments from Tyne, since there are mounds of grain there for an army that no longer exists. They’re not eating like princes, but they’re full when they go to sleep. Autmaran sent missives to the other cities with the news of Lucien’s fall, and Scouts to see what the reaction was. A large number of the Commons Davydd and Lorna freed in Tyne have gone back to the city – the growing season is here, and they can’t miss it. We’ll need all the grain we can get, and for the first time in a long time they’ll get a fair price for it.”

  As soon as Tomaz mentioned Davydd, Raven found his gaze drawn back to the ship swaying easily against the dock as men in high-waisted white breeches and short blue coats began to load supplies aboard. His heart began to ache again as he thought of Lorna, which led to thoughts of Tym, and Keri before him, and Goldwyn before that. Shadows and light … how could life still be going on without them in it?

  “What are they saying about us?” Raven asked. “Me in the sky, and all of you leading the Kindred in the attack?”

  “They’re saying the prophecies were all fulfilled,” Tomaz rumbled, smiling slightly. “There are people on street corners telling everyone who will listen that you battled death and conquered it, just as was foretold.”

  Raven sighed and continued looking out the window. A slight breeze picked up and provoked the sea to waves of agitation before calm descended once more. The sun was warm above them and the breeze blew through the open window, full of salt and promise.

  A new day. The first of many.

  “Do they know where we are?” he asked.

  “No,” the giant rumbled. “The Kindred and most of the Commons who fought with us – the ones we can be sure of – have all been consolidated under Autmaran’s command. The Elders have stepped in to help organize the city.”

  “The Elders that are left, you mean,” Leah grimaced.

  “Indeed,” Tomaz rumbled, “which is the other reason I’ve been gone so long. They finally have all twelve of the sambolin that came north, but it took far too long to gather them. They made another to replace the one we lost, and recovered the ones that Ishmael, Lymaugh, and Ceres died with. Add that to Elder Keri and Elder Goldwyn … there are five spots that need to be filled.”

  “Who do they want?” Leah asked, curious. “I can’t imagine there are that many people lining up for the job just yet. I expect Demeter will take her Mother’s place, and the others will be filled back in Vale.”

  Tomaz stopped leaning against the window frame and stood up, adjusting his cape about his shoulders, looking strangely nervous.

  “Actually, they want us,” he rumbled. “All three of us.”

  Raven felt surprise ring through him, then disbelief. He raised an eyebrow at the big man, wondering if he was trying to be funny. Tomaz was terrible at being funny.

  “You’re joking,” Leah said, under the same suspicion.

  “I most assuredly am not,” the giant rumbled, looking slightly uncomfortable. He turned his gaze out the window so he wouldn’t have to look at them anymore. “Elder Crane came to me himself. They asked me to fill Lymaugh’s spot as the Elder of Mercy, and apparently Ishmael asked for Leah personally before he left for the battle against the Visigony.”

  Leah’s mouth fell open in unfeigned shock.

  “This is insane,” she said, her eyes wide. “There hasn’t been an Elder younger than fifty since the bloody founding of Vale! That’s why they’re Elders.”

  “I think collectively we’ve lived enough for a thousand lifetimes,” Raven said quietly, speaking both for him and them. They turned to him, and he met their gaze with a small smile – as much of one as he could manage.

  Goldwyn would tell me to find the good. He would tell me to find the laughter.

  Leah nodded slowly, her eyes far away, remembering, and Raven could swear he saw the faintest flash of blue in them, but knew it was his imagination. The Aspects had left them, as had his Talisman, when he’d de
stroyed the Crowns. Each of the companions had been changed, though, and Raven knew it deeper than the others. Over time, the effects might become more apparent, clear enough for the others to see. He would be there to help them if they needed it.

  “What about Raven?” Leah asked slowly. “What do they want him for?”

  Tomaz swallowed, looking carefully between them both, and Raven knew in a sudden rush of understanding what the giant was going to say before he even opened his mouth.

  “Goldwyn,” he sighed, feeling a strange sensation in his chest. “They want me to be Elder of State instead of Warryn.”

  “Yes,” Tomaz rumbled, “they do.”

  Leah nodded slightly, as if he’d only confirmed what she’d suspected. She turned to Raven and it was as if she were seeing him in a new light.

  “Yes,” she murmured, almost to herself, “it’s exactly what we need. Someone who knows both Kindred and Empire and can help us bring both together. Of course you’re who they’d want.”

  “What about Autmaran?” Raven asked suddenly. “He was Goldwyn’s protégé. Did they offer it to him?”

  “He’s Commander of the Kindred Army,” Tomaz said, “and after discussing it with him, he and the Elders both decided the sambolin should go to you. I was there. His exact words were, ‘I prefer to fight with swords against enemies I can see. Keep the politics to those who understand it.’ I quite enjoyed that, actually.”

  Tomaz grinned through his beard at Raven.

  “Besides,” the giant continued softly, “he may have been Goldwyn’s protégé, but he wasn’t the one Goldwyn died for.”

  The words moved Raven, and he had to look away.

  “Well,” Leah said, looking back and forth between them, “what are we going to say?”

  “Actually,” Tomaz rumbled, roughly clearing his throat. “I’ve already said yes.”

  “What?” Leah asked, looking outraged. “Without talking to me first? If you say yes, then there’s no going back to the life we had. We have to be Elders, and we have to give a damn about everything that’s going on.”

  “There is no going back to the life we had,” Tomaz rumbled, solemnly. His eyes were wide and watching Leah, and he took care to stress his words as he said them. “This is a new world we’ve helped create. They will need us – all of us – likely for most of our lives.”

  “Of course,” Raven said, nodding. “I will accept as well.”

  Leah looked at him in surprise, searching his face for answers.

  “I won’t run ever again,” he told her. “If there’s anything I’ve learned after all of this, it’s that. I can’t turn my back on the world. Maybe the people who can are lucky, or maybe they’re just heartless, but either way I’ve proved to myself that I can’t do that. If I can help heal what is left of both nations, if I can stitch together even the smallest portion of the lives my family tore apart, then the request is but a formality. I may not be a prince anymore, but the title doesn’t matter. It never did.”

  Leah nodded slowly.

  “Then I’ll be there too,” she said.

  Tomaz nodded, and let out a huge breath in a rush of air. He smiled, and passed both hands through his thick black hair and immaculate beard, before turning to look back out the window. Something caught his eye, and he moved closer; Raven turned to look.

  Davydd Goldwyn had emerged with two bulging tote bags slung over his shoulders. His face and body were once more whole and handsome, minus a few scars, and his golden eye had reverted back to its former glowing-coal red. He walked with swagger down to the edge of the dock, and called greetings to various deckhands and Rangers who would be accompanying him. He seemed back to his cheerful self, but Raven knew it was an act. There was tightness around his eyes, and his normally shaved chin more often than not bore signs of several days’ stubble.

  “What are his plans?” Tomaz rumbled.

  Below them, Davydd began to load his bags onto the ship. Other figures appeared, men and women that had decided to accompany him. Some were Rogues and Rangers; some were simple soldiers; one or two were dressed in the homespun clothing of the Commons and bore packs loaded down with navigation and map-making instruments.

  “He won’t say,” Leah replied. “My guess is that he doesn’t even know himself.”

  Raven nodded absently. His mind was still strangely sluggish at times, but he was coming back to himself bit by bit.

  “I said goodbye to him this morning,” Leah said softly, and Raven reached out to grab her hand, catching her warm palm before he realized what he was doing. He worried for a moment that she would pull away, but after a moment’s hesitation she interlocked her fingers with his.

  “So he’s going through with it,” Tomaz rumbled. “Does he have an idea where to go?”

  “No one has an idea where to go,” Raven said. “The Empress had that ship built to withstand anything, though. She was going to use it herself.”

  “Good,” Leah said quietly. “Good. At least he’ll be safe.”

  Raven felt her hand squeeze his, and saw tears forming at the corners of her eyes, tears that she refused to let fall. Her nostrils flared and her jaw clenched, and she forced the emotions back, keeping them in check.

  “There’s no chance of talking him out of it?” Tomaz rumbled.

  “No,” Raven sighed, “we’ve tried over and over.”

  “Why not just tie him down?” the giant grumbled.

  “He’d just get free and take a smaller boat,” Raven said quietly. “He’s running from the memories of her death. He wants to forget … and besides, if anyone can make it, he can.”

  He squeezed Leah’s hand tightly, trying to send her all the support he could, but his own heart was breaking as he saw the strong young man jump into the rope-sling that would pull him up on deck with all the belongings he cared to take.

  “When do the Elder’s expect us back?” Leah asked. “And will we perform the ceremony in Vale, or in Lucien?”

  “Lucien,” Tomaz said softly, “at least for now. And the reason they sent me was because they needed someone to persuade you both to come as soon as possible. You’ve been gone for over two months. Everyone knows you need time to recover, but we need you now. There’s a new world to build.”

  “Then we’ll go,” Raven said, even as Leah tried to protest. “I’ve had long enough – and as long as you’re both there with me, I’ll keep getting better.”

  He fell silent again, and they all watched as the rest of the crew climbed aboard the huge ship, trying to catch the tide.

  “We won’t see him again,” Tomaz rumbled quietly, “will we?”

  Raven swallowed hard, and tried to speak, but found no words could come out. The sadness that continued to pool inside him was anchored to the man, in a strange way. Davydd had been ready right from the start to sacrifice everything to win, and despite his arrogance, he was one of the best men Raven had ever known. He deserved to have Lorna with him, deserved to have Tym trying to help him in everything he did, deserved to still have a father that would love him. Deserved so much more than what he’d been left with. But the war had torn him apart, and he couldn’t find happiness here.

  Raven tried again to answer, but Leah spoke before he could.

  “No, we won’t,” she said quietly. “But he’s going to have one hell of an adventure.”

  The ship pulled forward as the mooring ropes detached, and the three companions watched their friend sail out into the harbor, and then into the waiting sea. Raven held Leah’s hand tightly, and felt Tomaz’s presence by his side.

  Time to make a better world. Time to make an ‘after.’

  Epilogue

  The ship was big and sturdy. The crew took particular joy in handling her, which told Davydd all he needed to know about her craftsmanship. She was beautiful, quite honestly. He’d been eager to take her out to sea ever since he’d laid eyes on her, and now that he finally had the chance, he enjoyed it more than he’d ever thought possible. He loved t
he way it felt to have the deck rolling beneath his feet, loved the sturdy way his boots held the wood. It was a good ship. Part of him was surprised he’d never gone sailing before, though the larger part of him that knew he’d been fighting a war since he’d turned twelve really wasn’t. The opportunity simply hadn’t presented itself.

  But it had now, and he’d seized the chance.

  He’d remembered the look on Raven’s face when he’d told him his plans. That face with those dark eyes that reminded him so much of his father, Goldwyn, now, the way they saw more, much more, than they really should. He’d known what Davydd was asking, and he’d still agreed anyway.

  I’ll miss him, and Leah. But I have to go.

  They’d sailed for weeks now, straight into where the sun set, using the stars to guide them. There’d been a storm, their first, not too long ago, and Davydd had found it the most exhilarating experience of his life.

  Guilt wormed through him, but he ignored it.

  She’d want me to enjoy life. She’d want me to take a risk.

  He didn’t know if that was true, but he didn’t care. After all the death, after everything he’d given … no, he didn’t care. He’d stayed for her funeral, for both funerals, and he’d wept in solitude, refusing for days to leave his room. But after the initial grief had passed, he’d known what he wanted.

  He was born for adventure; he ached for it.

  He was a Ranger, first and foremost, and what Rangers did was explore. No one knew what was out beyond the western sea – no one had ever tried to cross it. With their provisions and their new ship, they had the chance to explore, and to see if the stories Raven had gleaned from his mother’s mind were true.

  Davydd, in the deepest, darkest part of his heart, wished they were.

  The storm he’d been waiting for hit that night, and he lost himself in it. Some of the crew were frightened, but many more were hopeful. They wanted this the same way he did, and together they fought the storm with all they had in them. Hours passed as they were tossed about like a scrap of bark in a sadistic child’s bathtub.