by Dara Joy
Gian’s brow raised. “Willingly?” he asked disbelievingly. He could not imagine Rejar subjecting himself to the discipline needed to become a Charl warrior. Rejar had ever been of a capricious nature. Loving life and women. And not always in that order. In all ways that Gian could see, he was a true Familiar.
Traed smirked. “Willingly…that is a matter of some debate.”
Both men chuckled. Although half Familiar and half Aviaran, Rejar seemed to have inherited the most independent qualities from both sides. Rejar’s father Krue and Yaniff had both railed at him for years to join the Charl, but to no avail. The men of Krue’s bloodline followed the path of the Charl warrior. Gian could only speculate on what machinations Yaniff had employed to get the frisky Rejar to comply. He would find that out later, but right now, he had more pressing matters on his mind.
Gian became serious. “I have apprised the guild of the situation on Ganakari.”
Traed put down his drink. “And?”
“Karpon must be stopped, of course. And the nature of the drug they administered to me must be ascertained. It is my belief that certain steps should be taken in the meantime to ensure the safety of the Familiars. I have done what I thought best.” He did not elaborate on what that was, but Traed sensed there was much on Gian’s mind.
“I am sure you have done the right thing, Gian.”
“The Sages wish to see you, Traed,” Gian said in a quiet voice.
Traed was not happy with this. He had no desire to be embroiled further with the mystics’ unending schemes. “Why do they wish to see me?”
“I have told them what you did to save us.”
Traed’s nostrils flared. “I wish you had not, Gian.”
“They would have seen it, regardless…in my mind.”
“No. You could have shielded your thoughts from them.”
Gian sighed. So, Traed knew that Familiars could shield themselves from high-level Charl. “It would not have been right. You deserve recognition for such a deed. They wish to speak to you.”
Traed stood resignedly. When the House of Sages requested an audience, there was little choice in the matter. “No, they want something from me.”
“It was not the impression I received.”
“You know them not. Believe me, in the end, they will want something. If not this day, then the next.” He quietly closed the door behind him.
“Then I am sorry, Traed,” Gian said to the empty room. A warrior with such power as Traed’s, who refused to be Charl, was walking a very dangerous path.
Perhaps it would be good for Traed to come to M’yan for a while as well. The more Gian considered it, the more he realized what an excellent idea it was. For both of them.
In fact, he would insist.
Traed stood tall before the House of Sages in the High Guild. Insolently, he threw his shoulders back, meeting each and every eye that faced him.
It was his first time to be called before them as a group, even though separately, he had met them all.
Although they had never made any decrees regarding him personally, their actions against his natural father had punished him as well. It was an unjust chastisement of an innocent boy that had affected his entire life.
And he had suffered greatly because of it.
He would not welcome a summons to this chamber on any day.
Gelfan was first to speak. “We would compensate you, son of…Yaniff.”
Traed’s pale green gaze narrowed. The man could not even bring himself to say his name. “It is not necessary. I seek no compensation from you.”
Ernak cleared his throat, clearly embarrassed by Gelfan’s rudeness. “You misunderstand, Traed. We, the Sages of the High Guild seek to make up for…for the way we have dealt with you.”
“The way you have dealt with me.” Traed’s dry tone caused several to avoid his piercing look.
Ernak was one of them. He looked away uneasily. “The way we ignored your position in all of this. Surely you see that was not our intention. In light of your abilities, we seek to mend this error. A power such as yours cannot be overlooked or ignored. Whether you desire it or not.”
Traed snorted, crossing his arms contemptuously over his chest.
Gelfan’s palm slapped down on the table. “He needs guidance; that is obvious! That power cannot be allowed to run amok!”
Traed raised a scornful eyebrow. “Really. And which one of you will designate to not allow me to go about my way?” The challenge was there. He impaled each member save Yaniff with a chilling glare.
As expected, no one spoke. Who in his right mind would challenge such a power?
Yaniff stepped forward. “This is not necessary, Traed.” He used the voice of a Charl master to his student. “Think well ere you speak your next words.”
Traed hesitated despite himself. He had been about to challenge Gelfan. Yaniff’s warning resonated through him. Besides protecting him, Yaniff was letting him know that Gelfan might welcome such a challenge for his own ends. Traed would not go against Yaniff. “As you wish, Yaniff. Out of respect to you and you alone, I hold my tongue.”
Wolthanth was impressed. “What can we do for you, Traed? Surely there is something. I, for one, do not feel right about what has transpired in the past. In any event, even if the incidents of the past had not affected us all, we still would wish to compensate you for this valiant service you have performed. You have saved Guardian of the Mist, something both our peoples applaud. Under the circumstances, there was not another who could have brought him out alive. It was your level of power and ingenuity that delivered him back to us. You have rewarded our trust in you and now we wish to reward you in kind.”
It was an eloquent speech. Wolthanth had neatly turned aside his past grievances and focused instead on the present. By his words he had made it very difficult for Traed to refuse a reward. Nonetheless, there was nothing he wanted from them.
Suddenly he heard Gruntel’s words again. “…ask heart’s desire…”
Why not? What did he have to lose? “Very well, Wolthanth. The Guild may begin to make amends by granting me my rightful name, which has been denied me these many years.”
Silence reigned in the cavernous room.
Finally Zysyz spoke. “What name is that, Traed ta’al Yaniff?”
Only the slight flickering of an eyelash betrayed Traed’s hurt. “There is a name that belongs to me—indeed is part of my bloodline—which you in your wisdom have denied me.” He bit the bitter words out.
Traed turned to Yaniff, genuine sorrow etched on his face. “Forgive me, Yaniff, and know that I do this not to dishonor your name, which I hold above all others. There is another whose name I should bear, however. One whose bloodline is directly tied to mine. Does he not stand for my mother’s line?”
“He does!”
All eyes turned towards the sound of the powerful voice which spoke from the doorway to the chamber. Krue.
He strode forward, his commanding presence a force in the hall. He came to a halt abreast of Traed.
“The lad is right.” Krue placed his hand on Traed’s shoulder. “Reverse your ruling; it is past time to put away old hurts. The Tan-Shi will have to understand and if they do not, it will be their misfortune. For I will claim this Traed as my son. I should have done so when he was but a child and would have if not for the constraints you placed upon me. Constraints, I would add, that doubled my sorrow—to lose my sister and my son-of-the-line as well.”
Wolthanth spoke. “Krue, there was more to that decision than you realize. As retribution for Theardar’s insult to the Lodarres line, you would have sought to face Theardar for the rights to his son. This we could not allow.”
“Yes, Krue,” Gelfan added. “Theardar was a sixth-level mystic even then. At the time, you were but a four. Against such power, you would have been helpless.”
Krue’s lavender eyes captured the Sages in their steely glow. “Think you so?” he uttered in a chilling tone, causing a few members
to look away. Krue’s reputation as a legendary warrior was well-known.
Gelfan narrowed his eyes, not liking the way the conversation was going. Sages were not to be questioned. “Perhaps not,” he admitted. “But we could not take such a risk.”
“You should have allowed me to make that decision! It involved the honor of my family.”
Yaniff spoke to Krue. “We could not. It was my say the Guild followed.”
Krue turned a shocked face to Yaniff. “Your say? But why? You were on my side of it—you told me so yourself! Why would you do such a thing?”
“Rejar.”
Both Traed and Krue appeared stunned.
Finally Krue spoke. “But Rejar was not an issue then. Why, I had not—that is, Suleila and I…I had not yet performed the Transference with Suleila.”
“Exactly.” Yaniff pierced Krue with a steady look. “As I say, we could not risk your going against Theardar.”
Everyone was silent for many moments. What had Yaniff seen? Somehow it involved Rejar and was of vital importance. But what? The Sages pondered.
“I do not understand these things, Yaniff. I confess they disturb me more oft than not. For I wonder where the line between vision and manipulation lies. Lately these lines blur for me and I begin to resent much.”
“It grieves me to hear you speak thus, Krue.”
“And me.”
“I have known you all your days; I beseech you to listen when I ask you to honor my words. It is Rejar and it has always been Rejar.”
“I cannot credit this!” Krue spat.
“What do you speak of?” Traed was completely left out of this exchange of mystical significance.
The Sages turned horrified eyes to Yaniff. “We cannot credit this either. Surely you have misread the signs, Yaniff?” Gelfan was clearly shaken. “He is of the Familiars; he is not—”
“It is as I say.”
Strangely enough, it was Krue who recovered first. “I am not here to argue my son’s place in your visions, Yaniff. I am here to claim another son to me. This son.”
He faced Traed, placing his hand upon his shoulder. “I claim this Traed as my right by bloodline, by Charl mystical belief, by Aviaran law, by my heart as well, as Traed ta’al Krue, acknowledged brother to the sons of my loins Lorgin and Rejar. It is done. Embrace your father, Traed. Though it grieves me that this moment comes so late, better than never.”
Moved, Traed embraced Krue. Jade eyes damp, he went down on one knee before him. “I acknowledge you as father of my bloodline and of my heart as well. I hereby know myself. I am Traed ta’al Krue!”
Not one voice called out to dispute the fact.
Yaniff watched, more pleased than he had been in many a year as Traed rose to his feet, bringing with him his rightful heritage and the name of his mother’s bloodline. On Aviara, when a father disgraced his lineage, he forever lost the right to claim his sons. Such sons by law then belonged to he who would stand for the mother’s line. In this case, Krue had the right to claim Traed.
Krue and Traed left the hall together, and Yaniff thought it was just.
“Are you sure the babe is getting enough rest?” Krue glowered down the table at his eldest son, Lorgin.
“Yes, father, I am sure,” Lorgin answered him dully. He casually turned away from his father towards his brother Rejar and crossed his eyes. Krue was driving him mad! Yes, it was his first child but, by Aiyah, he was not an idiot!
Rejar smirked at his brother, glad for once not to be the one under scrutiny.
Lorgin’s wife, Adeeann, beamed at Krue as if he were the wisest and most caring of olde-fathers. In truth, she was enjoying this. For which he would make her pay later.
“I do not think it safe for her in that tree you live in,” Krue grumbled.
Lorgin knew what was coming next. His father was once again going to “suggest” his son move back to the family home.
Temporarily.
For the next twenty years.
He wondered if his father was still suffering from the shock of his errant son, Rejar, bringing home a wife. Yes, that must be it. Had to be.
Lorgin fumed. Why did he always have to suffer because of his brother? He glowered at him across the table, brows lowered. Rejar blinked innocently at him.
“Oh, but the tree is so pretty.” Lilac winked at her husband, Rejar. They had found a nice, secluded spot on one of the branches a few nights ago. She shivered as she remembered what he had done to her that night.
Rejar glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He discreetly ran the tip of his tongue across his sultry lower lip. Lilac shivered anew. Her husband had not been named “Gifted” in the Familiar tongue for nothing.
“The tree is perfectly safe, Father,” Lorgin reiterated for the hundredth time.
“I fail to see how it is safe when she can crawl off a limb and—”
Lorgin rubbed the side of his forehead, where the throbbing was starting. Krue had been going on like this for weeks and he was getting worse. “She cannot crawl yet, Father.” He groaned as he imagined what Krue would be like by that time.
“Nonetheless, who can say what—”
A loud shriek of disgust came from the direction of Krue’s Familiar wife, Suleila. Everyone stopped eating to stare at her, stupefied. Including Krue.
Suleila had had enough. “I vow, Krue, if you do not stop with this ridiculousness, I will scratch your eyes out!”
Krue’s mouth parted in shock.
Suleila threw her hands up in the air. “The babe is perfectly fine! She eats well, she sleeps well, her digestion is perfect, and yes, she looks like you! Now will you let us have some peace!”
All eyes shifted to Krue to see what his response was going to be to this most unusual but highly applauded setdown by his wife.
“Hmf.” He resumed his meal.
The rest of the diners gratefully followed suit.
“Scratch my eyes out?” he murmured to Suleila in a low tone.
Suleila’s lips twitched. “At the very least.”
He flashed her a look she knew well. “I look forward to it,” he drawled in a low tone, so no one could hear. He could still make her blush.
“My boy, would you pass me that purple woodcock over there?” Aunt Agatha peered at the plate through her lorgnette as she nudged Traed.
No one had a clue what woodcock was, but Traed passed the old woman the dish of Aviaran calan stew just the same. Aunt Agatha had come back from Ree Gen Cee Ing Land with Rejar and his wife, Lilac. Aviara had not been the same since.
A single knock sounded on the door.
Malkin, their servant, opened the door and was so unnerved by the person who stood there that he lost his ability to speak. So the visitor simply let herself in and entered the room where they sat.
All conversation came to a dead stop as each person looked up.
“Who is it?” Jenise whispered to Gian when no one would speak.
{It is the revered Tan-Shi Mother. She is the mystical leader of the feminine sect. They say she is the knowledge-bearer of all female wisdom on Aviara. It is unheard of for her to leave the monastery.}
“Why has she come do you suppose?” Jenise murmured.
{She has heard that Krue has acknowledged Traed to his line. In doing so he has violated an oath between the Charl and the Tan-Shi.}
Both Lorgin and Rejar had already been told about Traed and both were relieved. Although the brothers themselves had long acknowledged Traed, they knew of the strain placed upon their father by the Tan-Shi.
Jenise eyed the elderly woman closely. Her hair was silver and hung down her back. Her robes were black and unadorned yet somehow they did not look plain with her proud carriage. Like Yaniff, she carried a long staff with a crystal at the end. Her eyes were clear silver, fathomless. Even though she never glanced Jenise’s way, Jenise had the distinct impression that the woman knew she was studying her.
Krue found his voice first. “Revered Mother, we are honored by
your presence here. Come and sit at my table.” He stood, offering her his own seat at the head.
The Tan-Shi Mother declined. “I am not here to sit at your table, Krue, although I thank you for your gesture.”
He frowned. “If you have come about Traed, then you waste your time. I have claimed him, as is my right.”
Traed, who was obviously uncomfortable at being the center of all this attention, stared down at his plate, a muscle ticking in his jaw. His anger at the Guild and the Tan-Shi was deep-seated.
“I am not here to discuss your right either,” she informed the Aviaran warrior. The Tan-Shi Mother never minced her words. She was direct and to the point.
Krue responded with like boldness, seeing no reason to temper himself despite his immense respect for her. “I will fight for him,” he said in a soft but deadly voice.
Traed looked at Krue, surprised.
“He is my son—you will not take him from me again.”
The corners of the Tan-Shi Mother’s lips twitched. “You will not have to fight for him, Warrior. It is time we set aside the past. The debt has been paid. The destruction that was caused by one Charl was made right by another.” She looked pointedly at Yaniff, who remained silent at his end of the table. Then she nodded at Traed, acknowledging him and his right to sit beside Krue in his home.
Traed pointedly ignored her.
Krue, in his first act as father, kicked Traed under the table with his boot. Grudgingly, Traed inclined his head. Slightly.
The woman’s silver eyes twinkled as if she found some amusement in his reluctance. “Stubbornness can be a good trait for a Charl warrior, son of Krue.”
Yaniff snorted. “So I have been telling him since he has been a youth.”
Traed narrowed his eyes. “I am not a Charl warrior. Nor will I ever be.”
“We will speak of that later, Traed.” Krue returned to his seat.
“No, Krue, we will not.”
Rejar and Lorgin both winced, knowing what was coming. Gian, watching the scene play out before him, waited for Traed to find out what it truly meant to be a son.
Krue did not disappoint. He set his goblet on the table with a clink and pierced the younger man with a steely look. “I said we will discuss it later.”
