by David Wind
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“What happened this morning could have been more divisive than anyone might believe,” Nosaj said to Areenna. “You acted wisely in sending me to stop them.”
“It seemed to be what was necessary.”
Her father laughed. “You are so young, yet so old. You would make your mother proud.”
“I would rather she was here instead of me.”
Nosaj placed his hands on her shoulders. “What we wish for and what we must live with are rarely the same. Nonetheless, you are everything best about your mother, and more, you are becoming a powerful woman in your own right. Go refresh yourself before the noon meal. I intend on changing out of these road-coated clothes before we eat.”
Areenna left her father and went to her rooms, where she found three servants waiting and a bath already set.
Ten minutes later, as she lay in the warm waters, Queen Enaid entered the bathing chamber. “With your permission, Princess?” When Areenna nodded, Enaid motioned the servants out. She knelt at the edge of the large oval bathing tub set flush within the floor, its rim carved with intricate visions of animals.
“You acted swiftly today—”
Areenna shook her head. “No it was you. I was caught in the moment.”
Enaid stroked Areenna’s hair. “No child, it would have been only a second or two longer before you knew what actions were needed. All I did was to help make you aware sooner.”
“It was only the beginning. Tomorrow something will happen to Llawnroc.”
“You had a foreseeing?”
Areenna explained her vision, going over it in greater detail than she had with her father. When she finished, Enaid said, “You acted wisely by telling the duke he would be needed here. I will set a guard upon Llawnroc until the duke arrives. It is too bad we do not know who will attempt this.”
She studied Areenna a moment longer. “This afternoon’s council will allow the seconds to participate—from now on as well. Tonight you and your father will join us after the meal.”
“With delight,” Areenna responded even as she found herself wondering why the seconds would be permitted into the council. Seconds were those who were either next in line or guardians of the lineage. It was unusual.
“Not so unusual,” Enaid said, catching Areenna off guard. “No, I did not read your mind,” Enaid laughed. “I read your face.”
Areenna nodded. Though she’d learned much over the years, how to read faces was something she had not yet learned.
As though she sensed the direction of the younger woman’s thoughts, Enaid explained, “The reading of faces is not of our magic, it is something I will teach you, as Roth taught me. He calls it psychology. Having the seconds attend the council will be for safety as well. If someone is going after Llawnroc, then we must have enough eyes in the room to prevent it.”
“I understand.” Areenna paused before saying, “I felt Eetak trying to read me in the council just before Nomis spoke.”
Enaid’s brows furrowed. “He was caught in something dark. Their domain borders the outlands where the darkness is growing. We will have to watch them.”
“She read nothing from me, of that I am certain.”
“Good. We eat in a half hour. I will see you there,” Enaid declared, and left Areenna to her own thoughts. Her father had no second, but almost everyone else did, including King Roth’s son, Mikaal. Alone in the silence of the room, she found herself wondering about Mikaal. It had been a while since she had last seen him. She wondered if he was still the same laughing boy he had always been. Mikaal had never been one to take anything, especially life, too seriously.
The thought of Mikaal brought up a memory so clear it was as if time had reversed itself and she was twelve years old, standing in the Hall of the Tale at the School of the Kings….
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Areenna sensed the nervousness of the second year students who sat together in the center of the hall as Master Thrumweld said, “Listen carefully for the tale I impart is of great importance.”
He took a long and deep breath—the sound loud in the silent room. Areenna watched his eyes go from one student to the next and felt the power of his gaze when his eyes reached her. “Hear me well. This will be the only time I speak this tale. Remember what is said here, for it is your true history and one day your lives may depend on it.”
Areenna counted five of her heartbeats when the old master again scanned the faces of the six students sitting before him. Once again, his eyes fell on her.
“Areenna of Freemorn,” he said, “Stand.”
Areenna stood, the pale reaches of her long hair fell to her waist in waves; her shoulders straight and she refused to let her face showed any trace of fear. “Yes, Master Thrumweld?”
“What do you know of the Old Ones, of those who came before?”
Areenna’s brow creased across forehead. “I know they were strong. Their magic was powerful. They could build high towers and fill the desert with water when there was no water to find. They could control the sky, and even the stars themselves.”
She fell silent and waited, the master’s eyes still locked on hers. Seconds later, a boy at the end of the semi-circle squirmed nervously. Master Thrumwald looked away from Areenna and fixed the boy with a glare. The boy froze and she was once again beneath the master’s gaze. “Yes, they could do all that. But what do you really know of them?”
“Only that they are our ancestors. What we are is because of them. The magic we possess comes from them. It is said they left our world to find a new one, and we are still in waiting for their return.”
“Ah… and do you think they will return?”
Areenna hesitated, her brows knitted thoughtfully. While not a test, she sensed it was something no less important—and possibly even more so. She held his stare. “No, Master Thrumweld, I do not think they will return…because I do not believe they went to a new world to return from.”
Stunned faces turned toward her. The others looked at her as if she’d lost her mind—some faces showed fear while others just looked sad for her.
“Do tell us why you feel this, Areenna.”
She shook her head. Blonde hair flared outward like a whip around her face before settling on her shoulders. “I don’t know, not for sure. I…I sense it.”
When the old master smiled, she saw white teeth glow from behind red lips that had been hidden within thick whiskers. “Well, Areenna, everyone is allowed to believe however they feel. But believing in something, and acting on it are two different things.
“Who can tell me about magic?” he asked, motioning Areenna to sit back down.
She was all too conscious of how he ignored her raised hand and pointed to another.
“Trebor of Lokinhold, stand!” the master commanded, pulling Areenna abruptly from her thoughts. She turned back as a one of the young boys in her class flew to his feet. “Yes Master Thrumweld?”
“Tell me, Trebor…tell me about magic.”
The brown-headed man-child, barely in his thirteenth year took a shaky breath. “Magic is all around us. Women can create spells and use them to do what is needed.”
“That is how one might use magic,” the teacher said dryly, “but, young Trebor, what exactly is magic and where does it come from?”
She watched the confusion settle on Trebor’s face. He started to speak, stopped, then shook his head and tried again. “Magic is…magic. It came from our ancestors.”
Master Thrumweld’s voice was not unkind. “You are half-right. Magic is magic. To describe it is impossible since every woman’s magic is their own. However, magic does not simply come from our ancestors, it comes from within!”
“But why then do we learn spells to use magic if it comes from within us?” a small blond woman-child interrupted.
The old master turned his eyes to her. “Yes, Akassia of Welkold, women learn to make formulas which become spells so women can use magic, but the formulas and spells do not create magic…they
only allow you to use it.”
“I don’t understand,” Akassia said.
“Neither do I,” added Trebor.
“Who understands?” he asked, looking from face to face. When his lingered on Areenna for just a hundredth of a second longer than the others, she saw he knew she understood, but could not say so aloud. She had to live with the others in her group for the next two years and for her to say that what people call magic is but the witnessing of sciences they cannot comprehend would mark her as different from them.
Then, she became aware of something else—a sensation of being watched.
She turned toward the far wall, her eyes flicked over the older students. When her glance fell across one in particular, she knew it was he who had been watching her. There was an aura about him, floating near his skin. Not a shadow of darkness, but rather of something else, though she knew not what. Then, slowly, recognition surfaced. He was Mikaal, the son of the High King. Why is he watching me?
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Mikaal spun to face his mother. “I have plans for the afternoon.”
“What plans are those?” He could almost be a twin of his father, except he was taller, his eyes were the same gray as Enaid’s, and his mouth was somewhere between Roth’s and hers. But overall, he was tall, strong and much too handsome for his own good, or for the good of the women inside and outside of Tolemac.
“Plans,” he responded in a softer voice.
“I am sorry Mikaal, today the council is more important.”
“Of course it is, Mother,” he said without sarcasm. “How was this morning’s session?”
“There were a few bumps,” she told him and explained what had happened.
When she finished, Mikaal said, “Then it is best we go fortify ourselves with food before, yes?”
Enaid laughed. “Yes, but not too much. I don’t want you sleeping through this. Today and tomorrow will be important, Mikaal, possibly more important than any day before.”
“I will not sleep,” he promised with another broad smile.
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Unlike most of the women present, Areenna wore leggings and a short tunic rather than a dress. Only two other women dressed the same. Areenna’s tunic was pale green and cut to mask the fullness of her breasts, de-emphasizing her body in favor of her position as king’s advisor. Her pale hair was pulled back and tied in a simple manner.
When she and her father entered the small hall, she reacted as she always had, with a slow indrawn breath. The small hall was a misnomer as the room was small in name only. The walls were triple the height of a man, and arched domelike, meeting a huge skylight in the center. While the walls and ceiling were plain and coated with a pale white wash, the artwork created upon them was spectacular. Greens and blues, yellows and reds mingled with earth tones of browns, beiges and tans to create murals of Nevaeh representing a millennium of history. Sunlight streamed through the large skylight in the center of the ceiling, which illuminated the chamber and brought the murals to life. There was no need for artificial light to see clearly in daytime.
She and her father were seated to Roth’s left. There was an open chair between her and the high king. The meal started off smoothly with almost all in attendance. The talk was calm and completely off the subject of the earlier discussions. Within moments of the meal’s start, Roth’s son Mikaal appeared; for just an instant, Areenna thought she was seeing two high kings, before she realized it was Mikaal.
Surprisingly, he had grown taller since their last meeting. The change was unexpected because he was two years older than she, and should have stopped growing well before. But his height was the least of the changes. Areenna saw he had become broader as well, and she did not miss the powerful muscles rippling beneath his light shirt.
She felt a foot kick her shin and looked at her father. “What?”
“Staring at Mikaal is rude,” he admonished in a whisper, but she saw his eyes sparkle.
Unable to control her blush, she picked up a napkin and coughed into it. “Please, Father,” she whispered, but knew more eyes were on her. Am I that obvious? She looked around and saw there were only two sets of eyes focused on her—the gray eyes that belonged to Enaid and the matching gray of Mikaal’s.
“Areenna.” Mikaal smiled at her. “Finally a pleasure amongst the drags of duty.” He sat in the chair next to her.
“Hello, Mikaal,” Areenna replied. “And why does duty become a drag?”
He laughed. “Try not to sound like my mother.”
Areenna smiled. “Try to act like a prince.”
“Yes, Mother,” he said with a wink.
Areenna laughed nonchalantly, yet there was something heavier beneath the laugh. A light afternoon wine was served along with the first course of a tallow fruit. She had been hungry earlier, but something ominous in the chamber stole away her hunger. As she nibbled politely at the fruit, she gazed around the long oval table. Spread out evenly were the ten kings, the high king, and the wives, mothers, daughters, and brothers or sisters who were the royal advisors. The seconds, for those who had such, sat to their king’s left. Llawnroc and Freemorn were the only kingdoms with empty chairs to the left of their rulers and Llawnroc’s chair would be filled by tonight.
To the other side of Roth and Enaid, was Enaid’s father, King Ecaroh of Brumwall. His wife, Queen Enna sat on one side. Their son, Enaid’s brother Prince Darb, sat in the seconds’ chair.
“Where are you?” Mikaal asked Areenna, interrupting her thoughts with his deep voiced whisper.
She shook free of her inspection and favored him with a halting smile. “Admiring the way the hall was created. The paintings and the skylight always amaze me.”
Mikaal looked around and shrugged. “I see nothing more than what has surrounded me all my life.”
“Which means what…that you cannot see the beauty in your life?”
“It means he cannot see what is before him, only what is distant,” Enaid said with a smile.
“Sad, is it not?” Areenna replied with a matching smile.
“So this is today’s game, try to find the chink in Mikaal’s armor?” he responded to both women.
“More like taking the blinders off your eyes,” Areenna retorted without thinking. She paused, momentarily looking away from him. When she turned back to the young prince, she said, “Forgive me, my prince, I spoke out of turn.”
Mikaal stared her for several seconds before a smile lifted the corners of his mouth. “Forgive you for speaking your mind? There are so many who are afraid to do more than agree with whatever I say.”
“Because you are the heir,” Areenna whispered as the servants cleared the first course.
“Which I care nothing about. Must I remind you it takes all ten dominions to accept a high king?”
“You will care, and no, I know it well,” Areenna said and heard Enaid echo her words at the exact same time.
Mikaal threw his hands into the air. “Two of you and I am stuck in the middle. Can we stop discussing me and enjoy our meal?
“Of course,” Areenna replied. She picked up the cup of wine. It tasted of berries and oak and delighted her senses while at the same time she warned herself to be careful not to drink too much.
When the food was served—roast chillen breasts and vegetables—the myriad conversations around the table became muted while everyone ate their fill.
From the corners of her eyes, Areenna watched Mikaal eat, drink, and talk with his mother between bites. She admired their closeness, which seemed more like friendship than a chat between mother and son.
“Look at Roth,” her father said in a whisper that carried only as far as her ear.
The high king’s face was etched with tension, his eyes darting around the room, and she knew Enaid had told him of her vision. Coupled with what had happened earlier, she was certain he was trying to pierce whatever dark curtain was drawing around them.
Areenna turned her attention to the plate before her. Eating slowl
y, she concentrated on the food, ignoring the conversations, and did as Enaid had asked—allowed her senses to range outward in the room.
She was not powerful enough to sense specific thoughts—very few women could—but she could sense emotions. The high queen had shown her how to build her strength for this over a year ago. Outwardly, Areenna kept her face stoic while she allowed her senses to roam freely.
A sensory sweep of the room, showed her nothing unusual until she discovered a blocked mind. She reached for her wine and looked around the room, trying to ferret out the person whose thoughts were shielded.
The emotions of the others in the room were clear and mostly calm and their faces reflected such. Beneath the calmness was a sense of anticipation. But when her eyes settled on Olrac, king of Llawnroc, she knew it was he who hid his thoughts from others.
Llawnroc was the southernmost domain of the ten realms, and was charged with the watch of the Eastern Ocean. Areenna wondered what Olrac was protecting to require so heavy a shield. Or was it a who, not what he protected?
His emotions are blocked as well. The words came not through her ears, but into her mind. Areenna paused with her wine cup suspended on its return journey to the table as she intuitively recognized the feel of Enaid behind the words.
She looked at the High Queen, who was staring directly at her. She blinked once, and formed a question with her thoughts. You can talk this way? You can see into my thoughts?
A trickle of laughter danced in her head. No child, I cannot see into your head. But I can ‘feel’ your words—nothing more. When I feel them, I can respond. Concentrate and ‘push’ your thoughts. Now, what did you find?
Olrac, she thought toward Enaid. He is…blank.
She watched the Queen’s eyes track to Olrac and close. An instant later Enaid’s eyes flew open and she turned to Areenna. He is not Olrac!
CHAPTER 5
ENAID SCANNED THE council room, her eyes stopping briefly on Olrac. Olrac was the ruler of the southernmost domain and the protector of the southern shores of the Eastern Sea—it had been called the Atlantic Ocean in the time from whence Roth had come, he had told her—it was the most vulnerable area of Nevaeh.
