by Garry Spoor
Although she tried to start up a conversation, it appeared the men were either not willing, or not allowed, to speak to her. They walked in silence until they reach the gatehouse. There they were exchanged for two more guards before continuing the last stretch of the journey.
As Kile approached the Keep, she felt as if she was back on Shenataesi. The courtyard was as dead as the island. There was simply nothing growing. If the Maligar had been released here, it would probably go unnoticed. When they reached the stairs, the palace doors opened, and two more guards emerged. They didn’t come down to greet her, but instead stood on either side of the threshold as a familiar yet unwelcome face appeared.
“Good evening, Mistress Veller,” Jerald said on seeing her. The king’s adviser was draped in his signature black robes and looked as sinister as ever. He descended the stairs, leaving his guards behind.
“Leave us,” he told Kile’s escort.
The men hesitated before one stepped forward.
“Sir, our orders were to take her to the king.”
“And I am changing those orders,” Jerald said. “The king is currently occupied. You will leave her with me and return to your posts.”
“As you wish, sir.” The man and his companion turned, leaving Kile standing in the courtyard alone with the king’s adviser. She suddenly felt vulnerable.
“It is good to see you again, Mistress Veller,” he said. It was clear by the tone in his voice and the way he kept spitting out her name, he didn’t mean it. “The news of your arrival came as a bit of a surprise since you are supposed to be… dead.”
“Am I now?” she asked.
“That was what we heard. Master Heaney’s report was quite clear on the matter.”
“Yes, well, there was a bit of a mix-up, I’m afraid. You see, I recovered.”
“The king will be… quite pleased to hear it, but, as I said before, he is busy at the moment. I will escort you to someplace where you can… clean yourself up.”
Kile looked down at her clothes. Surely she wasn’t that dirty.
“It is important that I speak with Roland as soon as possible.”
Jerald flinched, as he usually did when she spoke of the king with such familiarity. “I’m afraid it is not up to you to dictate what the king considers important. I will tell him of your arrival and he will see you when he has time.” Jerald abruptly turned his back on her. He climbed the stairs, leaving Kile to follow.
“I think you will be safe in the western wing,” he said when he reached the door.
It was an odd choice of words. What was she to be safe from? Surely she wasn’t in danger from anything in the palace, or was there something in the palace she might pose a danger to?
As they passed through the door into the foyer, instead of taking the stairs on the right, as she had the first time she was here, they took the stairs on the left. They had only reached the landing when someone called out to them.
“Hold up there, Jerald.”
Kile recognized the voice.
“Go, take her to the tower,” Jerald commanded the guards before breaking away.
“Is that her?” Roland called out as he sprinted up the stairs behind them.
“Your Highness, I thought you were in your study.”
“Jerald, is that her?” he demanded. “You there, guards, bring her here.”
Kile’s two escorts stopped and turned around without saying a word.
“Your Highness…”
“Jerald, I wish to speak with her.”
“But, Your Highness.”
“Now, Jerald.”
“As you wish, Your Highness,” Jerald said in defeat.
Roland pushed past him and caught up to Kile, but stopped before he reached her.
“It is you. I thought… I thought you were…”
“Dead? Yeah, I’ve been getting that a lot lately.”
He was exactly the way she remembered him. The same smile, the same eyes, the same smell—that of old parchment and soap.
“When I heard a redheaded woman with a rat on her shoulder was seeking an audience with me, I thought your spirit had come back to condemn me for sending you on that accursed journey.”
“Not quite, but now that you mention it, I probably would have if I had actually died.”
“But why now? Where have you been? It’s been weeks since the others returned.”
“I had a bit of a transportation problem.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It’s difficult to explain, and there are more important things I have to tell you,” Kile said, glancing up at one of the guards.
“Yes. Yes, of course,” Roland said, turning to one of the gaurds. “Please, leave us.”
The guards left without saying a word. Kile was beginning to wonder if there was anyone in those suits of armor.
“Your Highness…”
“Please, Jerald.”
The king’s adviser sighed. “As you wish, your Highness.” He turned to Kile and, with a stiff bow, added, “Mistress” before leaving.
“I’m sorry about that. Jerald means well,” Roland said.
“It’s fine. He doesn’t bother me,” Kile answered, “and you have a bigger problem than him.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the Heart isn’t what you think it is.”
“Come.” Roland placed a hand on her back. “Such conversation is not meant for open halls. We can speak in my study.”
~~~***~~~
Roland’s study looked pretty much the way she thought it would look, considering he smelled like old parchment and soap. It was a large room filled with books. Walls upon walls of books. The library of Windfoil was nothing compared to this place. Kile could spend ten lifetimes here and still not read all of them. She ran her finger over the spines, picking out titles she wanted to explore. There were books on science, on military strategy, on history, so many great titles to choose from.
“You approve?” Roland asked. He stood at a table in the corner, pouring two drinks from a pink decanter.
“This is incredible. I never thought there were this many books,” Kile exclaimed.
“Oh, this is just my collection,” he said. “But you are welcome to peruse it anytime you wish.”
“Thank you.” She reached for a book on agriculture but quickly stopped herself. This was neither the time nor the place. “Maybe later,” she added.
“What’s the rush?” He handed her one of the glasses.
She gave it a quick sniff behind his back. It had a pungent odor, most likely alcoholic, but it smelled like medicine. She casually set it aside. Alcohol and feral episodes didn’t mix well.
“The Heart of Nilak isn’t what you think it is.”
“And what is it?”
“It… It’s an Orceen.”
Roland seemed a little skeptical. “Maybe you should start from the beginning?”
“Very well. Nilak was an Orceen, like me. He was imprisoned and tortured by the Alva when he refused to teach them the ways of our people. When they couldn’t get him to talk, they tried to take his power from him by force, using some form of the mystic arts. I’m not sure how, but it… broke him. That’s when the Maligar was born. It was the Maligar that created the wastelands. It turned nature against itself. The Orceen were able to contain it, but they couldn’t destroy it. They took it to Shenataesi for healing, but instead, it only made matters worse. If you try to use the Heart, you will release the Maligar back into this world and there aren’t any Orceen left to stop it. The Malagar will finish what it started, turning everything into a wasteland.”
Roland finished his drink and looked down at the empty glass. “That’s ah… that’s quite a story. It’s a little hard to believe.”
“But it’s true.”
“Says you.” He set the empty glass down on the table. “Look, Kile, I’m not dismissing your fears it’s just we’ve had the Heart here. We’ve all examined it. Some of the best minds in the
kingdom have studied it. Mystics, alchemists, scholars, if there was something, they would have found it. If it is so dangerous, why hasn’t anything happened?”
“I don’t know. Maybe because it’s waiting for something.”
“Waiting? Waiting for what? You talk about it as if it’s alive.”
“It is alive. Haven’t you been listening? It is the soul, the essence the… Hi’kruul of Nilak.”
“The what?”
“I… I can’t explain it. All I know is, it’s dangerous. If the Heart is released, it will destroy this kingdom and destroy all of Aru and who knows how much more.”
“Think about what you’re saying. If that were true, why would the Alva want us to have it?”
“Because the Alva deceived us. They despise the vir. They were trying to harness the power of the Orceen to use against us, but they couldn’t control it, and instead, it destroyed them. They blame the vir for that destruction, and now they want us to pay. The Alva led us to the Heart in the hopes we’d do exactly what we’re doing.”
“How… how could you possibly know this?”
“Darfin told me.”
An awkward silence descended on the conversation as Roland stepped away from Kile and turned his back on her.
“Yes, yes, I heard about you and… the Alva,” he said, pouring himself another drink.
Kile’s eyes widened. “What?” she exclaimed. “Are you kidding me? You’re really going there. You think there was something between me and Darfin?”
Roland turned and looked at her. “I only know what I was told.”
She laughed. “So what? You have to believe everything you’re told. Because I was the only female on a long sea voyage, I inevitably had to hook up with someone.”
“Kile, I understand, it’s only natural. I forgive—”
“You forgive me? You were going to forgive me, weren’t you? For what? As if I even need your forgiveness. Darfin tried to kill me. You weren’t told that, were you?”
“Are you sure?”
Kile stared at him in disbelief. “Yeah, you’re right, I was probably mistaken. I often mistake an act of affection for hostility. A loving embrace can easily be misinterpreted as someone trying to decapitate you. Why the hell do I even bother?” She turned away from him.
“Kile, wait,” Roland pleaded. He reached out to her, but when she pulled away he stepped back. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I guess I was jealous. When I heard Master Boraro’s report, I simply assumed—”
“Master Boraro, please. Darfin tried to kill me, but Boraro nearly succeeded.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying he stabbed me in the back, literally, and it’s not the first time.”
“Master Boraro tried to kill you? No. No, I’m sorry. I… I don’t believe it.”
“No, of course. Why would you? It’s not like you believed anything else I’ve said.”
“Master Boraro is a knight of the realm. He has served my father and me with distinction. I do not believe he would jeopardize this mission.”
“Oh, yes, he’s such a loyal servant. Remind me how he aided in imprisoning your brother for a crime he never committed.”
“Enough!”
“Or what?”
The awkward silence returned as they stared at each other. Roland blinked first.
“You are the most maddening woman…”
“Thank you.”
“That was not a compliment.”
“I know.”
Closing his eyes, Roland ran his hands through is hair before taking a deep breath. This conversation wasn’t going the way he planned.
“Answer me this? What would Master Boraro have to gain from killing you?”
Kile shrugged. “As much as I’d like to think it was merely his personal hatred of me, I’m not sure.”
“I won’t lie to you. I’m having a hard time believing this. If what you are saying is true, there is something else going on. First you tell me Darfin tried to kill you. Next you tell me Boraro tried to kill you. Are you saying the Hunters and the Alva are in on this together?”
“Only the Terrabin Hunter.”
“What? What do you mean Terrabin Hunter? Aren’t all Hunters the same?”
“No. Terrabin Hunters are those Hunters who follow the teachings of Terrabin D’al. He believed that Hunters were wasting their time helping the little people and instead, should join to form an army and work only for the rich and powerful. He was an elitist.”
“So, who do the other Hunters follow?”
“I don’t know. Moran Leafler?”
“Who?”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“So, you believe these Hunters, these Terrabin Hunters are working for someone who is in league with the Alva to destroy my kingdom and all of Aru.”
Kile had to think about that one for a moment. It did sum up everything that was going on. In a way, it made perfect sense, or at least it made more sense than anything she could come up with. Was that what she honestly believed? There was still one missing piece to the puzzle.
“I guess that’s what I’m saying,” she said.
“Then who are they working for?” Roland asked.
That was the missing piece.
“I don’t know.”
Roland paced yet suddenly stopped and turned around. “You don’t think it’s my brother, do you?”
“I… I don’t know.”
“You said, before, you didn’t think he was after the crown, that there was something else he wanted. I have to admit, I didn’t believe you then, but now, it’s starting to make sense. What if this was his plan all along?” Roland paced again. “Regardless of who is behind this, I think the first thing we have to do is get a message to Mystic Elmac before this goes too far. It’s only been a few days. He shouldn’t have reached the wastelands yet.”
“I’ll go,” Kile volunteered.
“No.”
“Why?”
“You said it yourself. Both Darfin and Boraro tried to kill you, which means you must be a threat to them, somehow. Maybe they think you know too much, or maybe they think you can stop whatever it is they’re trying to do. I don’t know and I don’t want to take that chance.”
“But, if I can stop this—”
“We don’t even know what this is. Besides, Elmac’s not alone. He’s with Galan and Arbane, and of course there’s Boraro, and who knows how many more of these… Terrabin Hunters are in on this. If you show up, especially since you’re supposedly dead, they’ll know we’re onto them.”
“So you believe me?”
“Let’s just say, I can’t afford not to. I’ll send a message to Elmac, telling him we have more information and he needs to return to Azintar as soon as possible. We’ll get to the bottom of this. If Master Boraro did try to kill you, I promise you, he will be held accountable.”
“Thank you,” she said. It was nice to know somebody believed her. She was starting to doubt herself.
Roland picked up the drink she’d left on the table and handed it back to her.
“No, thank you.”
He picked up his own glass. “If you hadn’t brought this to my attention, who knows what could have happened. I’ll send the message immediately. For now, you should probably get some rest.”
He downed the last of his drink and waited for Kile to do the same. Against her better judgment, she finished hers off as well. It had a strong bitter taste, definitely not to her liking.
“I can’t rest,” she said, setting the glass down. “I have to find Erin Silvia. I think the Terrabin Hunters have her. She may be in trouble.”
“Where?”
“I don’t know. They intercepted us before we came here. They said they were taking her to see the colonel.”
“The colonel. Very well. Let me find out what’s happened to her first,” Roland offered. “I have ears and eyes in the military. When we find her, we can decide the best course of action. Until then, I’ll ha
ve Jerald show you someplace you can rest.”
~~~***~~~
Jerald and two more silent sentries led Kile back through the palace. She was starting to get to know the place a bit well, but it didn’t change her opinion of it. It was too quiet, too dead. It replaced everything natural with something artificial. As they navigated their way through the corridors, with its ostentatious décor and useless clutter, Kile couldn’t help but wonder how Roland could live in such a stale environment. He seemed so down-to-earth, too normal for this place. There was nothing here that reflected his personality. He was much more at home in Windfoil. She remembered the first time she saw him there in…
“…Kinns’s Chamber.”
Jerald’s voice suddenly brought Kile back to the here and now. She found herself on a long, narrow staircase and had no idea how she got there. The journey through the palace was a blur as her mind was elsewhere. The two guards were still with them, only they were a couple of steps below her. The king’s adviser was occupying the step above her, probably so he could look down on her. He seemed a bit miffed at the moment and she realized he was trying to explain something.
“I’m sorry, I…”
Jerald sighed. “I said, the king wishes for you to make yourself at home in Lady Kinns’s Chamber.”
“Lady Kinns?”
The name sounded vaguely familiar. Kile knew she’d heard it before somewhere, but she couldn’t remember where. More than likely, it was at that party last year. She was introduced to so many people before she flipped out and tried to assassinate the Alva ambassador. There was no way she could keep track of all their names.
Jerald sighed again and this one sounded even more annoyed than the last one. “Lady Isabel Kinns,” he slowly repeated the name.
“Oh, yes, nice woman, I remember her,” Kile lied.
“Do you now?” Jerald grinned. “That would be quite a feat since she’s been dead these past eleven years.”
