by Narro, B. T.
“You’ll let me by?” Vithos dramatically raised a thumb to point to his own face. “I thought I was letting you by.”
“No.” Paramar smiled. “And it’s just this once, friend. When I see you on the battlefield, I won’t be so nice.”
“I understand. We’ve picked our sides, haven’t we?” The Elf’s smile finally faded. “Although there’s something you should know about the Humans on your side, the ones in Tenred. They lied to you. Kyrro never knew where the Slugari are located. Only I knew that. You shouldn’t be so quick to join their side in battle. If they were desperate enough for war to deliver such a risky lie, can you imagine what else they might do? That kind of desperation is dangerous. Trust me on that.”
“How do we know you’re not lying?” Paramar asked.
Vithos held his chin. “I suppose you don’t.” He took a breath as he thought about it further. “Interesting, isn’t it? I can tell when others lie, but I have no way of proving my honesty. So the burden of truth falls on you. Trust me or not, I can’t force you into either decision. But it would be unwise to completely disregard what I’ve told you.”
Is it like Vithos to lie? Zeti wondered. Paramar would know. She turned for a glimpse, but his face said nothing of his thoughts. It was still as usual, ready to smile or furrow in anger.
Vithos turned and reached out to her with an open palm. “Zeti? I don’t have any more time for this conversation. I’ll ask just once more. Are you certain you wish to stay with them?”
His eyes were longing, as if channeling Zoke. Vithos did it so well she almost could see her brother’s face within his. She even felt as if she was answering Zoke.
It made it infinitely harder for her to nod her head, but she did. While Zoke might not have had a choice, she did, and she wasn’t a traitor. It wasn’t time for her and Zoke, not yet. Vithos will keep him safe, just as he did today. He’ll survive this war. Then we’ll be together. I can’t prove Father to be right about both of us. I have to see this through.
She knew then that her hope was there to stay.
Stronger than it all, though, was the thought of the Slugari meat waiting for her back in the cavern and Paramar’s hand squeezing down on her shoulder, holding her in place. Both of these things were more powerful than she was, she realized with bitter frustration.
Her side had been chosen, and she did not have the strength to change it, not then.
Chapter 66: Perception
CLEVE
Jessend Takary had taken Cleve and Rek straight to Gendock, nearly a ten-mile walk from their jail cells in Kyrro City. Cleve’s hands and feet were chained, but at least he had no reason to worry about being uncomfortably gagged like Rek, not that he had anything to say to Jessend or her guards.
He’d already asked her his only question of what the purpose was behind bringing him to Goldram, to which she’d simply replied, “I’ll tell you later” with her accent that made Cleve imagine her nibbling off dainty bites of crackers while holding a table napkin underneath to catch the crumbs. When he began to wonder why that image came to mind, he figured he’d always imagined that’s what queens and princesses did, and her accent made her sound like one.
And that’s precisely what she was—a princess. “Daughter to the King of Goldram,” she’d told him as they traveled.
It was one of many things she said about herself, always pausing to give Cleve a chance to reply, but he never did. Whenever she asked him a question that he didn’t answer, which was every question, she followed up with a playful smile. Sometimes she even guessed how he would answer if he’d spoken, adding at the end, “I’ll have you talking before we get on the boat.”
But they were at the boat now. Captain Mmzaza and the rest of her seamen, servants, and guards were close behind. It was Jessend’s choice to bring Cleve and Rek to the front to walk with her, and Cleve was thankful for the distance from Captain Mmzaza. Spending more than a day in the cell next to him had been enough for a lifetime, and now he was about to be stuck with him on a boat, taking orders.
“Did you know that Gendock was originally called Gen Takary’s Dock, for Gen Takary was the first of my family to come here from Goldram? He helped build this dock that we still use today over one hundred and fifty years later,” Jessend rambled.
Rek was nodding, half like he knew, half like he was about to fall asleep from boredom.
“I’ll answer any of your questions if you answer just one of mine,” Cleve replied.
Her head sank with a dramatic sigh. “Fine, you wore me out with your silence. I’ll tell you why you’re coming, although you should be thankful. If it wasn’t for me, you’d still be in that prison cell. You’re one lucky man, Cleve Polken, for I’ve chosen you to marry me.”
“What?” He gagged for a breath, choking on nothing. She took his hand, and his heart leapt into his strangled throat.
She giggled. “Don’t fret, that’s not the only reason you’re coming.” She used an overly cute tone. “There’s far more in store for you than frolicking about our palace with Takary at the end of your name. We have many uses for a warrior like you.”
“I find it hard to believe there isn’t a man more suited for you in all of Goldram,” Cleve said.
She giggled again. “You’re funny. I like that.”
“No, I’m not,” he grumbled. Never before had anyone called him funny. It only deepened the thought that she must see some side of him that didn’t exist. “You don’t want to marry me. I wouldn’t be a good husband.” Just using the words “I” and “husband” in the same sentence made him feel like he was speaking for someone else.
“I see no ring. You’re not already married, right?” she asked with some of her glee dropping from her voice.
Not once had he thought of marriage. Not once, not ever. It was too strange to be asked if he was married already. Some part of him wondered if she could be asking Rek, but Cleve knew better. She stood close to him, staring. Nearly a foot shorter, her eyes looked up with steady confidence.
“No,” he finally answered, his thoughts turning to Reela.
“Good. I was almost married, two times in fact.” She started to say another word but let a slow breath of air end her sentence instead. It seemed as if she was hinting at something sinister.
“What happened?” Cleve asked, feeling the answer might be helpful to know.
“I loved the first one very much. My father arranged the marriage when I was twelve. We were to marry when I reached the legal age at fourteen. He was a shotmarl bowman, big like you and just as quick with the bow.”
“Shotmarl?” Cleve had never heard the word.
“Yes, he was very good at the sport. You would be, too.” She studied his face for a breath, then ran her eyes down to his stomach and back up again. “You remind me so much of him.”
A strange feeling was coming on, like he really was someone else in her eyes. There was an eerie stubbornness about the way she’d been speaking to him, as if they’d known each other for many years. Now she was looking at him in that same way.
Something happened to this man she loved, Cleve realized. Do I even want to know? Will the same happen to me? His curiosity was too strong to resist.
“What happened with the marriage?”
Her eyes fell off him, down to her feet. “He died before we were wed. His team was sent to battle the desmarls.” Jessend spoke as if the words were painful to utter.
It appeared that Cleve finally had found a subject she didn’t wish to discuss. He felt conflicted about what to say. In that barrel of worms are answers about what she expects to happen between us. Then, there’s even another failed marriage pact to investigate. Terren always says there’s more to learn about someone by how they take defeat, not success. It seems best to wait for a more prudent time, though. I’m not sure I’m even prepared for the answers if she was to give them.
There was something else she’d mentioned that made him curious, so he went with that. “What are desm
arls?” Cleve asked.
“Desmarls are a terrible, man-eating creature and why Gen Takary sailed across the starving ocean to look for new land. They are the reason behind the sport of shotmarl.” Her eyes fluttered up from the ground to meet his face. “We have a lot to discuss. I’m sure you want to know more about our marriage. I wanted to wait until after you saw our magnificent palace to deliver the news. You’ll be far more excited when you see where you’ll be living. You’re going to love it, Cleve Polken, just as I’m sure you’re going to love Goldram.” She sounded cheerful, but Cleve thought he heard some doubt underneath her tone.
He could feel himself starting to care less and less about the words coming from this delirious princess’ mouth. Whatever she expects to happen in Goldram doesn’t matter, he told himself. I’ll be leaving as soon as I can anyway. He thought of Reela fighting without him.
As if she could see it on his face, she told him, “I realize you want to stay here because you’re worried about the war, but you can do a lot for Kyrro in Goldram. You can help me convince my father to send help back here after we arrive in your new home. We have a whole army ready to fight. And you should see the swords! Made with pure Bastial steel, more valuable than gold. Can you relax knowing your friends and family will be safe?”
“I can relax when I’m fighting alongside them.”
She tried to close her hands around his, just as Reela had in the dungeons, but they were far too small to do more than awkwardly hold the edges of his palms together.
“You need to let it go,” she begged. “The sooner you realize that you will not return to Kyrro, the better off you’ll be. If you continue with these thoughts, they’ll just lead to wretched misery. You will not be coming back.”
Cleve and Rek shared an extended look. He didn’t need psyche to tell they were thinking the same thing.
We’ll see about that.
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