by E. L. Todd
The three of them progressed through the trees, saying nothing as they approached his home in the heart of the forest. Father Giloth placed his arm around Accacia’s shoulder and guided her through the brush. Aleco trailed behind, watching Father Giloth give Accacia more affection than he ever gave him. Aleco saw the Nature Priest kiss Accacia on the head and he wondered why he’d never seen her before. She was obviously very close to Father Giloth. They entered his humble house through the unguarded back entrance, for Aleco’s sake.
Natalia, the housemaid, greeted them with a smile. “I have a new outfit on each of your beds and a hot bath waiting in your rooms,” she said. “I’ll get dinner started.”
Father Giloth escorted them to their bedchambers. He instructed them to meet him downstairs when they were ready for supper. Accacia walked into her bedroom and Aleco disappeared down the hall into his own.
Accacia moaned as she sunk into her hot bath, feeling the aches and pain intensify then dull after a few moments. She scrubbed her skin and watched as layers of tissue and dirt floated to the surface, until the water was saturated with grime. She saw the bruises over her body and the various cuts along her skin, remembrances of her time in captivity. The three months she was there was more than painful, it was agonizing. Her emotional turmoil far exceeded the physical pain. The beatings she received on a daily basis were the reason she tried to take her own life; she would rather die than give into them. She prayed that Aleco wouldn’t mention it or the scars on her body, to Father Giloth. She already knew how upset he was about her just being in the Prisoner’s Circle. She would tend to her wounds in private. She dried herself and put on the elegant, but casual dress, Natalia had set out for her. She fixed her hair and descended the stairs to the study.
Aleco was already whispering with Father Giloth when she entered the room. His hood still concealed his face and pity rose in her heart. She wished he didn’t feel ashamed in the house of Father Giloth. No one would judge his appearance and she wished he realized that. Their chattering stopped when she walked to the fire and placed her hands above the flames. She immediately felt the warmth spread through her limbs.
“You look lovely, my dear.” The old man smiled. “Thankfully, you and my late wife were the same size.” Accacia frowned at the mention of his dead wife, suddenly feeling uncomfortable wearing something she owned. Accacia had never known her; she had died before she was even born. Father Giloth seemed to read her thoughts because he cupped her face with his palm and said, “I would much rather see you wear it now, than watch it collect dust in the back of the closet, unworn and unused.”
Accacia relaxed at his words, relieved that she wasn’t overstepping her boundaries. She would never purposely offend the Nature Priest.
Father Giloth smiled. “Let’s eat, shall we?”
House of Asylinth, Orgoom Forest
8
The scraping of knives and the clattering of forks, with the occasional sound of chewing food or abrupt coughing, disrupted the silence in the room as they consumed their dinner. Candles lit the dining room and gave it a dim glow. The dark color of the furniture matched the wood of the forest. Accacia felt like the inside of the house was a mere extension of the woods, embodying the aura of the forest within the dwelling. It was exactly as she remembered it from all those years ago. Father Giloth hadn’t questioned her about the past few years; not yet anyway. She had a feeling he wasn’t going to.
Accacia looked across the table toward Aleco, his face veiled in absolute darkness under the hood, and wondered if he was staring at her in return—but there was no way for her to know. Realizing her rudeness, she quickly looked down, embarrassed by her obvious interest in Aleco. The man was confusing and difficult to decipher, but she knew one thing for certain; he was irrevocably damaged. She wondered about details of his past but knew he would never tell her. Accacia assumed they would make her captivity seem insignificant in comparison.
Aleco noticed her stare. How could he not when he had been gawking at her too? Aleco desperately wanted to know her story. Why would such a tiny woman be imprisoned in a heavily guarded fortress? More importantly, how could she seem so happy and pleasant? Her attitude didn’t indicate a hard journey of pain and torture. Just one conversation with Aleco, and you would know his life was full of pain and regret—but not for her. She continued to grant him social mercy when he didn’t deserve it; he assumed she pitied him. Aleco decided he would interrogate Father Giloth after she retired to bed. Father Giloth broke the silence.
“How are you feeling, Accacia?” he asked after he swallowed his bite of spiced ham. “Are there any bruises, pains, or cuts I can attend to?”
“No, I am quite well, thank you.” She smiled.
“Liar,” Aleco interjected. He knew how damaged her body was and wondered why she hadn’t addressed it as soon as they came to the forest. She attempted to hide her pain while they traveled through the Roslyn Thoroughfare but he knew it bothered her.
Father Giloth raised an eyebrow at Aleco’s accusation.
“She is covered in bruises—everywhere. I know she is in pain,” Aleco continued. “She needs assistance but is too foolish to ask for it.”
“Coming from the King of Foolishness,” Father Giloth jabbed.
Accacia and Father Giloth laughed. Aleco seethed to himself in silence, thankful his scowl was hidden from view. He wished he’d fled when he had the opportunity.
“Well, dear, if you do need anything, you know where my stores are. You are more than welcome to use it.” Father Giloth wouldn’t press her for the truth. He knew Accacia would take care of herself. She probably just didn’t want to reveal the intensity of her pain, shielding him from the knowledge.
“Thank you.” She smiled, thankful that Father Giloth dropped the subject. She was annoyed that Aleco had interjected on her behalf. If he really cared, he could have addressed her in private. He didn’t have to accuse her of being a liar in the middle of dinner. Accacia watched Aleco eat his meal and noticed the delicate table manners he used, which was a direct contradiction to his heathen aura. She expected him to eat with his bare hands, like a famished bear.
They continued their meal in silence. Accacia didn’t mind the quiet; she felt at peace.
Aleco noticed Accacia’s plate was full of potatoes, berries, seeds, and carrots, but lacked the spiced ham. “You don’t eat meat?” he asked bluntly.
“No.”
‘Why?” he demanded.
“I choose not to.”
Aleco had eaten the entire contents of his plate when he put his utensils down and waited for the others to finish. He was healed of the wound from the Kadnit Knife but the aftermath had stilled his appetite. He hadn’t eaten in several days so he consumed everything on his dish and was still hungry.
“May I have my necklace, Aleco?” Father Giloth gestured to the chain around Aleco’s neck with his outstretched hand.
Aleco unclasped it and dropped it into his palm. “Sure, but it will be for ornamental purposes only,” Aleco said. “An empty necklace has no use.” He looked across the table at Accacia, silently holding her accountable for the now worthless necklace. Alarm flashed in her viridian eyes; she prayed Aleco wouldn’t reveal her secret.
Father Giloth opened the empty capsule. “I am very sorry you were in a circumstance that required you to use this.” He sighed. “What happened?”
“Why don’t you ask Accacia?” Aleco sneered, his eyes glued to hers. Aleco couldn’t hide the anger in his voice. She tried to kill herself because of a few bruises. It would take more than that to make him take his own life.
Accacia looked distraught, the green inferno behind her eyes exploded into shame. Aleco quickly realized she didn’t want to reveal to the old man the reason why she needed it—because she tried to kill herself. Aleco understood how much that knowledge would pain Father Giloth.
“Well—I,” she stumbled through her words.
“She had to administer it to me because I was
stabbed by a guard,” Aleco interrupted. “The wound became infected. We had no other choice—it had to be used.”
Accacia stared at him in disbelief. Initially, she hated Aleco—he was rude, arrogant, and aggravating, and his comments to her were continually vulgar. When Accacia finally elicited a laugh or chuckle from him, he readopted his angry demeanor. His personality continued to evade logical thought; he couldn’t be predicted. However, she realized he was innately selfless. He had used his own antidote to spare her, never expecting to take her own capsule in compensation. He freed her from captivity, delivered her to her woodland home, purchased the items she needed from Roslyn, and expressed his overwhelming gratitude for helping him sleep, something that was clearly difficult for him—and now this. Aleco was a complicated man.
Father Giloth placed his fingers to his lips, which he did often in thought. “Well, I am very glad it was available to you, and you were able to revive yourself,” he said. “If not, it would have been very unfortunate.”
“I’m sure,” Aleco said as he rolled his eyes in his hood.
Father Giloth placed the necklace on the counter. “Well, that’s that, then.”
Natalia entered the dining room and cleared the plates, asking Father Giloth if he needed anything else for the night.
“Just a pot of tea for my study,” instructed the elderly man. “Thank you, Natalia.”
They rose from their chairs and dispersed. Father Giloth and Aleco headed for the study while Accacia walked to the front door.
“Thank you for dinner, Natalia,” she said. “It was delicious, as always.”
“You’re very welcome, my dear.” She beamed at Accacia. “Have a good night.”
Accacia left through the front door, walked across the damp grass in the darkness, and entered a building across the clearing. It was the storage center where Father Giloth and the Naturist stored their stocks of herbs and remedies.
Aleco watched her through the window in Father Giloth’s study. “Why was she imprisoned?” Aleco demanded without preamble.
“I already told you, Aleco. I cannot say.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
Father Giloth sighed. “I would never reveal your secrets, nor will I reveal hers. If you wish to know more about her, simply ask.”
“I did.”
“And?” the old man asked.
“She asked why I hid my face.”
“Did you tell her?” Father Giloth asked with interest.
“Of course not,” he said.
“You expect your queries to be answered without answering hers,” Father Giloth said as he nodded his head. “That sounds fair.”
Aleco growled. “What can you tell me about her?”
Father Giloth stared at him for a moment. “Why are you so interested, Aleco?”
“I risked my life for her. Is it absurd to wonder what I risked it for?” Aleco grabbed a glass and filled it with brandy, draining it in a single swallow.
Father Giloth watched him with a look of disapproval. “We do have other refreshments, you know.” He pointed to the pot of tea sitting on his desk.
Aleco ignored him and dropped into the chair facing Father Giloth’s desk. “Then tell me what you can.”
Father Giloth sipped his tea before he began. “Well, I have known Accacia for quite some time, since she was a small child, actually,” he said. “She lived with me for many years before she was whisked away from my grasp, which I was powerless to stop.”
“What of her parents?”
“They were killed.”
“Why?”
Father Giloth smiled in response.
Aleco rolled his eyes again. “Why haven’t we met before?”
“You’ve been in hiding for the past twenty years,” he said. “When would you have crossed paths?”
Aleco nodded in agreement. They sat in silence by the fire as Father Giloth sipped his tea and Aleco drained his supply of brandy.
Father Giloth stared at Aleco. “That isn’t water,” Father Giloth reminded him. He watched Aleco drink more of the amber liquid. Father Giloth usually kept brandy on hand for special events or when a party of guests stayed in the forest—but so much for that. He would have to hide the bottles from now on; both for Aleco’s sake and his own. They were both lost in thought when the old man spoke.
“You will need to leave, Aleco.”
Aleco nodded. He already expected this.
“They will come to question me. I will do my best to hide my knowledge of the entire affair, but I cannot lie if I’m asked a direct question. You need to be gone when they arrive,” he said. “And don’t tell me where you are headed.”
“I wouldn’t tell you anyway.” He took a sip from his glass.
“I need you to do something for me, Aleco.”
“Boggs,” Aleco cursed. “Now what do you want?”
“I need you to take Accacia with you.”
“Why?”
“She can’t be here when they arrive,” he said. “They will search every inch of this forest for her.”
Aleco wondered why she was so special. An entire cavalry combing fields of hay for one needle was impressive. “What will I do with her?”
“Take her somewhere safe, do not tell me where, and bide your time before you return. Teach her the sword, the bow, self-defense.”
“You’re joking.”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Why?”
“I am certain she will need it,” Father Giloth said. “And whatever you do, Aleco, do not show her your face.”
Aleco was intrigued. “Why?”
“I’m sorry,” he said. “Did I ruin your plans? Were you planning on showing her?”
“No,” Aleco replied.
“Then it doesn’t matter now does it?”
Aleco drank another glass just to irritate the old man. Father Giloth watched him finish his fifth brandy. “This isn’t a contest.”
“It’s certainly not a close one.” Aleco glanced at Father Giloth’s petite teacup which he had yet to finish. It was his first glass.
“I ran into Devry,” Aleco said after a moment.
Father Giloth looked at him. “What did he say?”
“He said the guild was still pursuing me, but that isn’t the news worth mentioning,” he said. “Drake has gifted them with rare stones. They have some unparalleled power and the Chief is interested in the material.”
“What kind of power?”
“He said he didn’t know.”
“Why did Drake give them this gift?”
“I didn’t ask,” Aleco said.
Father Giloth looked into the fire. He didn’t speak for several minutes as he thought to himself. Aleco didn’t know what the stones were or what power Devry referred to and hoped Father Giloth knew.
“Do you have any ideas?” Aleco asked.
“Yes, but they are just ideas. I need to research this. Go to bed, Aleco,” Father Giloth dismissed him. “Stop by the storage house and check on Accacia on your way.”
Accacia felt the hot sting as she placed the towel that she soaked in herbal supplements over her injuries. The pain was so unbearable her eyes began to smart. She decreased the pressure on her skin then dropped the towel to the floor. She stared at the linen on the ground from where she sat on the bench, unable to convince herself to pick it up. Her back was to the door when Aleco entered.
“You can’t stop,” Aleco said. “You need to keep the pressure on or your body won’t heal properly.”
Accacia covered herself and wiped her tears away. Aleco hadn’t noticed them until then. He sat on the bench beside her, grabbed the towel off the floor and looked into her face, which was contorted in pain. His heart immediately tugged for her, a sensation he hadn’t felt in many years.
He placed the towel into the pot of warm water until it was engorged with the herbal medicine then squeezed the water from the fabric before he applied it to her bare back. She cringed with pain and whimpered
at the burn of the medicine. She hugged her dress to her chest to cover herself.
“Shhh,” he whispered as he caressed her shoulder with his other hand. “You don’t have to be brave all the time.”
His words hit home and she cried harder. She heaved with sobs that were broken and shallow. The intensity of her emotions startled him. It sounded like it was the first time she had ever grieved. He suspected the source of her tears wasn’t the pain itself but the memory of her imprisonment, which flooded her mind now that she was safe.
Aleco applied the medicine across her back, arms, legs, and all the areas he could access without removing her gown. He whispered words of encouragement as he applied pressure, gently rubbing her back as he did so.
“I don’t understand you,” she whispered through her tears. “Which is it? Are you an asshole or are you not?”
“Not an asshole.” Aleco laughed. “For now, at least. Ask me again tomorrow.”
She laughed at his words.
Aleco finished the application of medicine and tossed the linen back into the pot. He looked at the severity of her injuries and noted the deep purple color and large size of her bruises. Anger swelled inside of him. “What did they do to you?”
“Everything you can think of,” she whispered as she put the top half of her dress on.
“Why?”
She tucked her hair behind her ear and wiped the last of her tears away. “They wanted to teach me a lesson in disobedience.” She stood up and began to put her supplies away.
Aleco got up and helped her. “What was your crime?”
“I failed to please my master,” she said.
“You’re a slave?” Aleco asked in surprise.
Accacia nodded.
“It is very unusual to put so much effort in imprisoning a slave, rather than killing them, and it is also rare to chase them across the continent.” Aleco voiced his thoughts.
“Well, I am very important to my owner,” she explained.
“Who is he?”
“Lord Drake is my master.”
Aleutian Keep, Letumian Province
9
