Oathtaker

by Patricia Reding

  “Lilith said you’d just returned.”

  “Mmhmmm.”

  “So, where’s Rowena? We’ve missed her. By the mob outside the gates, I suppose you can see how much.” The doorman placed a hand on the bench and slowly lowered himself to sit down.

  “Lilith didn’t tell you?”

  “She just said you’d come home with her. I expected to find Rowena out here with you. Where is she?”

  Dixon looked at the old man, then back at the pool of water before him. How many more times could he go through with telling the news? He dipped his hand into the cool water, then sat down. “I’m sorry.” He paused, then shared his news.

  “No!”

  “Yes, just days ago. And now it seems Lilith finds it necessary to band me.” The Oathtaker lifted up his arm.

  “I’m so sorry. Rowena was so very special. I remember her from the time she was just a babe. Always so full of life, so full of mischief. The good kind, I mean. You know? She’ll be sorely missed.”

  “Well, by some anyway,” Dixon murmured.

  “You mean Lilith?” The doorman lowered his voice. “She’s harmless, don’t you think?

  “Harmless? Do you really think so?”

  “She is terribly self-centered, of course. But that is the way of a sixth.”

  “There are always excuses for her.”

  The two sat quietly for a few minutes. The sound and smell of the burning torches filled the air and time.

  “She died in childbirth, you say?”

  Dixon nodded.

  “Goodness, such a tragedy. It seems we may never find our way back,” Bernard said. “I worry so for Oosa. The things we’ve always stood for, always believed in, are . . . disappearing. There doesn’t seem to be any order any more. There’s little honor . . . little caring. There are no heroes to speak of. No one knows what ‘loyalty’ means, and few seem to care. Every man is like a law unto himself.

  “I’d hoped Rowena’s child might grow to be a great leader, the kind that could bring us back to our roots.” He hung his head. “And now she’s gone and you’re . . . banded. None of it makes any sense.”

  “Yes, well apparently Lilith thinks I’m a flight risk or something.” Dixon stood and stretched. “I suppose she asked you to keep an eye on me?”

  “Well, she did, but I thought she just wanted to be certain you were properly welcomed. But you? A traitor? Bah! That’s ridiculous. I’ve never known anyone more faithful to Ehyeh’s ways. I’ve watched you. I saw you care for Rowena. I—”

  “Thank you. That means a lot to me.”

  “Ah, truly, she just asked me to be certain you had no need of anything.” Bernard paused. “I don’t understand. What’s going on between the two of you?”

  “Oh nothing really. It’s just that she insisted in a very public way that I come here with her. So, here I am.” Dixon shuffled his feet.

  “Understood.” The doorman leaned in. “Well, you tell me if you need anything. You know Lilith. She’s just asserting her authority so she can have her way. She’s always been partial to you.”

  “Ha! I mean no offense, but that is incredibly naïve of you.”

  Bernard’s brow furrowed. “You don’t think she fancies you?”

  “No more than she fancies anyone else she can’t control.”

  “Yes, I see what you mean. Well, if you like, I could see if she’d listen to me about removing the band.”

  “Absolutely not. Thank you, but I don’t want you to have anything to do with any of this.”

  “Sure. Sure. You’re just going to wait it out then?”

  Dixon nodded. He brushed at his nose to clear away the scent of the burning torches. He grimaced when it was ineffective. “It’ll be fine, I’m sure.”

  “Well, let’s get you settled in for the night.”

  “I don’t know. I’d like to stay out for a while just to spite Lilith.”

  Bernard laughed.

  “You’re right. No sense behaving as childishly as she does.”

  CHAPTER TEN

  In some ways returning to the palace was like returning home. Dixon had resided there whenever Rowena had been in attendance over the past years. He looked about his familiar room. It sported a blue theme that ran from the rugs scattered on the dark stained oak floor, to the bedspread, to the curtains, to the towels and the pitcher of water and bowl left for cleaning up. An assortment of black and white chalk sketches, in frames of pewter, hung on the walls. A vase with an assortment of white lilies and blue irises sat on the table near the balcony. The orange patches on the flowers’ petals lent a splash of unexpected color to the surroundings. Two chairs flanked the table upon which sat paper, a quill, and an inkwell.

  Having awakened with the sun, he listened to the muffled voices of kitchen staff welling up from somewhere below his window. Delivery wagons rattled as they neared the stockrooms. A cock crowed in the distance, and nearby, mourning doves cooed.

  A quiet tap came at his door. He ignored it. Palace etiquette held that if he didn’t respond to the first muffled knocking, the visitor would wait a good while before returning.

  He splashed water across his face and neck. After glancing in the mirror, noting he needed a shave, he retrieved his tools from his backpack. Once done, he dressed in clean clothing stacked in the armoire.

  Again came a knock at the door. It was odd, given that it couldn’t have been more than a quarter hour since the last attempt to rouse him. Again he ignored the beckoning. He didn’t want to see anyone—least of all Lilith if, the Good One forbid, it was she at his door.

  He stepped out on the balcony and looked out at the low mist covering the grounds. Droplets of dew sparkled on the lawn. He ran his fingers though his hair, then scowled at the band on his arm. Lilith’s use of it was an extreme measure. She had no reason to suspect him of any wrongdoing. He’d always faithfully protected the Select.

  Before she’d banded him, he’d been able to feel Mara’s presence, as part of his attendant magic enabled him to find other Select and Oathtakers whom he sought. He sighed, longing to return to her and the girls.

  Once more, came a knock at his door.

  It startled him, interrupting his thoughts. With a huff, he surmised that someone must have a particularly pressing need. He answered the door.

  “Edmond!” he exclaimed. “Am I ever glad to see you!”

  “Dixon.” Edmond threw his arms around his friend and clapped him on the back. He was a few inches shorter than Dixon, and slimmer. His dark hair and brown eyes gave him something of a secretive look. He was dressed the same as always, in tight black pants and a shirt open at the neck, and shiny black boots that came just short of his knees. His style lent him an air of nonchalance. He appeared to be just what he was: part of the established power. He took his position and rank for granted, and it showed in his countenance, which others could easily misconstrue as haughty.

  “What are you doing here? I expected you’d be busy with Council duties in the City of Light.” Dixon beamed. It was so good to find a friendly face.

  “I was deployed to the palace as an envoy of the Council. I arrived some time ago. I understand it was about the time you left with Rowena.”

  Dixon gestured toward a chair. Edmond pulled up on his pant legs to provide room for movement, then sat.

  “I can’t tell you how good it is to see you. It’s been a long time.”

  “I heard you came in with Lilith last night.”

  The Oathtaker held up his arm, displaying the band.

  “Whew!” Edmond whistled. “What’s that all about?”

  “Lilith being Lilith.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “She found me at sanctuary in Polesk yesterday and insisted I return to Shimeron with her. Wouldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.”

  “What happened?”

  “Rowena . . . died.” Dixon swallowed hard.

  “I heard that, yes.” Edmond bowed his head. “I’m so sorry.”r />
  “Lilith thinks it necessary to band me to be certain I attend a Council hearing to explain what happened.” Dixon leaned forward, crooked one finger so his knuckle pointed out, and said, “I am innocent of any wrongdoing.”

  “Of course!” Edmond eased his hand down and then, mirroring his body movements, leaned in. “Why would Lilith think otherwise? She knows you.”

  “Yes, and I know Lilith.”

  “Again, I don’t understand.”

  “Oh, it’s nothing. It’s just that she has her ways. Nothing is of any importance unless it’s about ‘Lilith.’”

  Edmond chuckled. “Yes, you know her.”

  “How long did you say you’ve been here?”

  “Long enough to know you speak truth. I just try to keep her humored so I can go about my business with limited interference.”

  “I have to get this band removed.”

  “Why not just go along with her wishes? Surely, you’ve nothing to hide. It’ll come off soon enough.”

  Dixon scowled. “Of course I’ve nothing to hide.” He paced, then took in a cleansing breath. “Can you talk to her for me? Put some sense in her head?”

  “You know I’d do anything for you, but maybe you should just do as she says and take care of this business first.”

  The Oathtaker looked into his friend’s eyes. He considered telling him of his need to get back to Mara and the girls, then decided against it. If he left the palace, he didn’t want Edmond to have foreknowledge so that he might feel compelled, or out of some sense of duty, feel the need, to inform anyone of the facts.

  “Maybe. Or maybe I’ll just wait until evening and be on my way. I’d rather be free and banded than be a prisoner and banded.” He frowned. “Dear Ehyeh, being separated from my magic is uncomfortable.”

  A knock came at the door. Dixon answered it.

  Bernard held a note in his white-gloved hand. “Good morning, Dixon. This is for you,” he said.

  “Don’t tell me. I suppose Lilith requests the honor of my presence—”

  “Now, now, Dixon,” the doorman chuckled. Then, noting Edmond’s presence, his expression became suddenly serious.

  The Oathtaker glanced at his friend, then looked back at Bernard. He understood the man’s discomfort. He never wanted to appear out of character with palace guests.

  Having resumed his stoic countenance, Bernard handed the note over. Then he bowed and turned away.

  “Well, I’m at your service, Dixon,” Edmond said. “Why don’t we spend the day walking the grounds? Maybe take in some hunting? I’m sure you’ll feel better after you have a chance to see that Lilith may be right about setting the record straight sooner rather than later.”

  Dixon nodded his agreement, then opened the note.

  “Anything important?”

  “Only that I am to be certain to join the family for dinner this evening.”

  Darkness descended as palace residents and guests gathered for dinner, all dressed grandly for the occasion. Lilith had left the staff with orders to seat Dixon at her left, Edmond to her right.

  Dixon was disappointed that Marshall would occupy the position directly across the table, as he would like to have spoken with the man. Now he couldn’t do so without speaking before Lilith.

  Farther down the table, Rowena’s sisters, Sally and Janine, sat near their Oathtakers, Ronald and Gisele. A number of other palace regulars filled the remaining places.

  Dixon had had no time to himself all day. Edmond, with him unceasingly, suggested one activity after another: a hike, target shooting, even ales before dinner. Dixon was getting the uneasy feeling that Lilith had called upon his friend to keep an eye on him. He knew Edmond was concerned for his welfare, but felt it insincere of him to do Lilith’s bidding without first apprising him of the details. And if all that wasn’t enough, now he had to sit through a stuffy, pretentious dinner.

  Lilith had sent out a public notice earlier providing that the rank of leader of the first family had reverted back to Rowena’s siblings. More specifically, it had reverted to her. Accordingly, she was to be last to enter the dining room.

  Only a few empty seats remained. In his frustration, Dixon leaned back and closed his eyes. He kept his hands clasped behind his head. He tried to breathe easily and to remain calm, but it was difficult, knowing that Lilith was taking Rowena’s place, and of course, he could tell no one the truth—that Lilith was not the ranking member of the first family—without also disclosing the truth about Reigna and Eden.

  Minutes later, Lilith arrived. Guests pushed back their chairs, got to their feet and quietly applauded. Dixon huffed, then joined them. He didn’t care that he was the last to do so. He clapped once . . . twice.

  She stood in the doorway, her right arm resting on Marshall’s, her left cuddled around Pompom. Her red dress—for Lilith always wore red—made her look as though she’d bathed in someone’s blood. It shone in the lamplight, spraying sparkles around the room. Cut to expose a great deal of flesh, it hugged her body like a second skin.

  She sauntered toward the dining table, stopping momentarily to hand her pet off to an attendant. Pompom barked her discontent.

  When Lilith arrived at her seat, she simply stood. The applause died away.

  A moment passed.

  Another moment passed.

  Then, suddenly and simultaneously, both Dixon and Edmond rushed to pull out her chair. Edmond won the tug of war. He assisted Lilith, then remained standing until both she and Dixon sat.

  The Oathtaker scowled. His frustration building, he remained silent. He was tired of Lilith’s games. He was tired of the band on his arm and the physical discomfort it caused by cutting him off from his magic. Strange how much more vivid something is when it’s absent. But most of all, he was tired of his inability to leave the palace and return to Mara’s side.

  He wondered if his being cooperative and malleable was the right approach. It only seemed to encourage Lilith. Perhaps being surly would work better. He had nothing to lose in trying.

  He glanced around the table. “Basha!” he exclaimed, surprised at finding a familiar face. “What are you doing here?” Apparently she, seated diagonally across from him, had arrived just moments before Lilith, while he’d been ignoring everyone.

  Basha had changed some since he’d last seen her, although she still looked like she was in her late twenties or so. As an Oathtaker, she’d held her physical age for all the years Dixon had known her. But she seemed to have aged in some other way—spiritually perhaps, or maybe emotionally. It was as though her cares were too burdensome.

  Her traditionally slim athletic build was somewhat rounder than when he’d last seen her. She wore her hair as always, cut straight around, just below her ears. It glittered like gold. Notwithstanding a difference in her countenance from days gone by, some overall sadness, her eyes still shone with the same genuineness and friendliness that he remembered from the past.

  She looked him fully in the eyes. “Dixon, it is so very good to see you.” Her voice was low, soft and comforting, like the sound of an old favored melody.

  A waiter moved over Dixon’s shoulder, filling his wine glass for the first course. Another followed behind with a crystal pitcher, to fill his water glass.

  As the Oathtaker allowed the wait staff room to maneuver, his gaze held Basha’s. He lifted his glass and tasted. Though not a great wine enthusiast, he could appreciate a good vintage at least as well as most.

  “It does my heart good to see you, Basha. What has it been? Four? Five years?”

  “Nearly five.”

  He looked down at the table, as did she. She cleared her throat, then looked back up, again meeting his eyes.

  “Tell me, have you found the pain lessen any?”

  She shrugged, then blinked repeatedly, as though holding tears at bay. “Some. Not entirely.” She smiled weakly.

  “That has been my experience as well.” He raised his brow. “Even after the years that have passed, the
re just are no words, are there? I am so very sorry.”

  He remembered the day Basha had lost her charge as though it was yesterday. The first family of the Select, Rowena, Lilith, Sally, Janine, Therese, Dianna and Eve, along with Rowena’s husband, Grant, Dianna’s husband, Michael, and Eve’s husband, Newland, were on an outing on the grounds far out from the palace. Their Oathtakers, Dixon, Marshall, Ronald, Gisele, Basha, Kenneth, and Marcel, accompanied them.

  Assassinations of the Select in the surrounding communities had been increasing, but everyone believed they were safe on palace grounds. Even so, their children were not in attendance. Their parents had already sent them away to various places for their safety.

  After an early hunt, the family made its way to a favorite picnic area near a cliff above the Mando River. The day had started with a fresh rain, but then gradually warmed, leaving the verdant green grasses begging for company. It was an appeal the family was all too happy to grant. They relaxed and visited, enjoying one another’s company and freedom from duty for the day.

  No one knew who shot the arrows that suddenly intruded upon their tranquility. When they realized they were under attack, Dixon and Marshall ran toward the source. The remaining Oathtakers surrounded the first family.

  Basha and her charge, Therese, stood at the edge of a cliff a short distance from the others, overlooking a waterfall. When they heard screams over the surging water, Basha quickly calculated the risks of rushing her charge to safety with the others.

  It was then that Therese staggered and fell down the cliff and into the water. Basha tried to catch her, but was a step too far away. No one knew if an arrow had hit Therese, but even if not, the likelihood of her surviving the fall was slim. Still, Basha demanded that a full guard accompany her to search the area and then to explore further downstream for several miles.

  The hunt stretched out for days, but they never recovered Therese’s body. She was the first of the first family to meet her demise. The event seemed to cause the family to start to unravel, stitch by stitch. All of Rowena’s earlier work to bring them together, which had appeared to be taking hold, was coming apart.