Souls of Aredyrah 3 - The Taking of the Dawn

by Tracy A. Akers

  Nely came to him readily, but Gem refused to budge. Reiv bit back his aggravation. “Gem, I have a very important job for you. I must go to Meirla and meet with the Shell Seekers. While I am away, Cora will need your help.”

  Gem nodded.

  “You must also keep an eye on your sister, and you may be asked to help take care of Torin. It is a big responsibility. Do you think you can handle it?”

  Gem nodded again, but then she narrowed her eyes. “Why are you going to Meirla? You should stay here with us.”

  For a moment it sounded as if she actually wanted him to stay, and Reiv’s spirits lifted somewhat. “I would much rather stay and look after things here,” he said, “but I must leave for a time.” Reiv placed a hand on her shoulder. “Gem, I think you are big enough to hear what I have to say next. You have shown yourself to be very brave, but now you must be even more so. I fear the King is making new plans, and I will see no harm come to you and your sister, or to Cora and Torin. That is why I must meet with the Shell Seekers.”

  “I will look after things while you are gone,” Gem said.

  “Thank you…and you, too, Nely. I know Torin and Cora will take comfort in your help while I am away.”

  Reiv let go of Nely’s hand and returned to the tent.

  “Cora, I must leave for Meirla,” he said as he entered. “I have already told Gem and Nely. They are prepared to help you.”

  Cora rose with concern. “What is it? Why are you leaving?”

  “Gem said she heard the King say ‘three days,’ but she knows nothing more. My brother is planning something; I am sure of it. And if that plan is to happen in three days time, then it has already been two. I must meet with the Shell Seekers.”

  “Will they let you enter the village?”

  “They will.” He turned to leave, but then stopped. “Can you handle Torin and the girls by yourself, Cora? I hate to leave you, and I do not know how long I will be gone. Hopefully not long, but. . .” As the words left his mouth, he realized how very much he regretted leaving. In the brief time he had been with Cora and the girls, he had come to feel responsible for them, almost like the head of the household. It made him feel needed, but when he glanced at Torin, the feeling turned to loss. A family might be forming within these canvas walls, but it would be Torin’s family, not his.

  Cora stepped toward him. “Before you leave, I want to thank you for everything you’ve done for Torin. I love you for it, you know.”

  Reiv nodded stiffly.

  Cora wrapped her arms around him, and as she did so he could not help but bury his face in her wild, sea-scented hair. He longed for more, but Cora was not his to take. He eased from her embrace.

  “You may love me, but not the way you love him,” he said, tilting his head in Torin’s direction.

  “No, but it’s still love, isn’t it?”

  Reiv smiled. “I suppose it will have to do.” Then he stepped toward the exit and slipped through the flap.

  ****

  The Shell Seekers that guarded the road stopped Reiv only briefly. They trusted that he, as one who had Transcended, was beyond the limitations of a mere mortal man; surely the fever could not touch someone who had died and returned to tell of it. But not everyone believed his former tale of Transcension, and so when he arrived at the village, he was met by a group that was far less trusting of him than the guards on the road had been.

  “Halt, Tearian,” Lyal’s voice commanded.

  Reiv bristled as he turned toward the voice, realizing several pairs of accusing eyes were aimed at him, as well as half a dozen equally sinister blades.

  Reiv stopped, keeping his focus on Lyal, who was clearly the leader of the pack. He would have liked nothing more than to fight the arrogant fool, but Reiv was outweaponed and outmanned, and there were more pressing issues at hand.

  “I appreciate your loyalty to the village,” Reiv said, “but I have news of the King that must be relayed to the clan.”

  “Then you will relay it to me first,” Lyal said, not lowering his blade.

  “You are not the clan’s leader, Lyal. I will relay it only to the person in charge.”

  Lyal curled his lip. “Then that, Tearian, would still be me. Torin, as you know, is indisposed.”

  “You have been elected in his place?”

  “In a manner of speaking.”

  Reiv took a step toward him, shoving Lyal’s short sword aside with a swipe of his hand. “What do you mean, in a manner of speaking?”

  But Lyal remained nonplussed. “I was assigned to look after the village while the rest of the clansmen set up a line of defense in the surrounding area. So for now you’d best get used to the idea of dealing with me.”

  Reiv glared at the cluster of young men at Lyal’s back. Most of them were barely older than he himself was, but he could tell by their expressions that they would welcome a chance to prove their manhood. Reiv forced self-control into his voice. “I need to speak with the entire council, Lyal, not just you. Now, would you be so kind as to send one of your boys to fetch them. We are wasting time debating the issue, time we do not have.”

  Lyal narrowed his eyes. “How much time do we have?”

  “Hours…minutes…I do not know. But I am confident of this much: we will have no more than a sunset to find out.”

  Lyal looked skeptical, but he jerked his head for one of his cohorts to carry out Reiv’s instruction. “Get the word out to the rest of the village,” he barked to the others. “We’ll meet as soon as all are gathered.”

  Reiv stepped in the direction of Jensa’s hut, intending to give her a pre-meeting update on Torin’s condition, but Lyal stopped him short. “Oh, no, prince. You’re coming with me.”

  “I have had enough of you,” Reiv said. “I need to speak with Jensa.”

  “You may speak with her later. She is cloistered.”

  “Cloistered?” Reiv said.

  “The women and children have been instructed to remain inside. The Elders thought it best, in order to decrease the risk to future generations.”

  Reiv scanned the area, realizing only men were moving about, and most of them were too young or too old to serve any real purpose at the lines.

  “Brina, then. I need to speak with my aunt. I doubt she is any threat to your future generations.”

  Lyal opened his mouth to decline, but then appeared to reconsider. “Very well,” he said gruffly. “I’ll escort you to the Place of Observance first, then I’ll fetch her. But you’ll wait there until I return, understand?”

  Reiv growled inwardly at being ordered about by Lyal, of all people, but he realized it would do no good to antagonize him further. All that mattered was that the clan meeting was being called. He nodded reluctantly and headed to the meeting place, Lyal at his back and breathing down his neck.

  * * * *

  The Place of Observance was a massive pavilion of bamboo poles woven together by marsh reeds and palm fronds. Thousands of iridescent shells decorated its exterior, making the place shimmer like a star. The entire compound was situated on a tor, midway between the sandy village it faced, and the dark rock cliffs that towered at its back. Though positioned to rise above the village, it did not loom over it like a master to a slave, but seemed to gaze upon it like a parent to a child. A wide path ambled up from the village to the structure, and was lined on each side by lush greenery and god-like statues carved from the local coral. A large clearing surrounded the building, which was where religious and communal ceremonies were held. Though the pavilion itself could accommodate a hundred souls within, the area that surrounded it could easily accommodate a thousand.

  As Reiv was escorted toward the sacred place, he could not help but recall the first time he had been there. It sent pain to his heart and sweat to his brow, for it was there, not all that long ago, that he had been poisoned and sent to the After Place. Though he had returned intact and with great knowledge, he would never forget the agony that had burned in his belly, nor the terror
that had possessed his soul. But he could not dwell on that now; he had to stay focused on the matter at hand. Today his concern was not the death of an individual, but that of an entire race.

  They soon reached the clearing and marched across it toward the pavilion. As they did so, three spiritual Elders stepped through the beaded portal to greet them. The three bowed to Reiv, an honor usually bestowed only upon others within the sect. This brought an immediate scowl to Lyal’s face.

  “He is to remain inside until I return,” Lyal said. “The King has declared war on the Jecta, and we mustn’t forget this is the cur’s brother.”

  “You go too far with your words, Lyal,” one of the Elders said. “Reiv is beyond the royal blood ties. He is a Transcendor. His ties are with those of a higher order.”

  Lyal scoffed. “So you say, Yustes.”

  “So we all say,” a second Elder replied.

  “A clan meeting is being called,” Lyal said. “Keep him here until the members arrive.”

  “Reiv may stay here as long as he wishes,” Yustes said. “But not on your order.” The old man’s voice grew threatening. “Do not throw your arrogance in my direction, Lyal, or your own transcension may take a turn in the other direction.”

  “Is that a threat?”

  “Call it what you wish.”

  Lyal glared. “My concern is for this world, not the next. Save your threats for someone else.”

  “And you yours.”

  “Your threats have no sway over me, old man,” Lyal said. “You will see to it that Reiv stays.” Then he turned and stormed back toward the path.

  It did not take long for the Place of Observance to fill with Shell Seekers. Some were men who had previously been assigned to set up the perimeter to prevent refugees from entering the village. Though most of the Jecta had traveled the main road that led to Meirla, others had staggered toward it through the hills, and were still doing so. Rather than give up the line entirely, some of the men continued their patrols, while the rest departed for the hastily called meeting. Other residents attended also, but strangely there were no females. Reiv found this most unsettling. Shell Seeker women had never been known to sit back and let the men do all the work. They were a society of equals, so why they had agreed to such an arrangement was beyond him.

  “Reiv!” The voice snapped him from his contemplations and toward Brina who could be seen shouldering her way across the room.

  She grabbed him in a quick embrace. “We have been so worried,” she said. “How is Torin? Jensa is beside herself. And Kerrik—”

  “Torin’s wounds will heal. As for his spirit. . .” Reiv glanced around, then ushered her aside. “He has said little, other than he feels he has nothing to live for.”

  Brina drew a startled breath. “Surely he does not mean it.”

  “I do not think Jensa and Kerrik should be told of it,” Reiv said, “at least not yet.”

  Brina leaned closer. “Are his days as clan leader over do you think?”

  “I hesitate to say, though it might be wise to select an interim leader.” Reiv shook his head. “But it cannot be Lyal.”

  “Lyal?” Brina laughed. “Oh, I do not think it will be Lyal.”

  “I hope not. He and his little pack of lapdogs were salivating for a chance to stick a knife in me when I arrived.” Reiv’s eyes wandered over the crowd. “What has been happening these past two days, Brina? The confinement of the women worries me.”

  Brina nodded. “After you left, I notified the clan leaders and the Elders of your suspicions. That, along with Nannaven’s earlier message that the fever had spread, told them all they needed to know. At first they assigned men to watch only the road. But when the first survivors of the massacre made it to the village by way of the hills, more drastic measures had to be taken. The Elders reminded the people of past plagues, particularly the one that followed the Purge. There is still the threat of the Guard of course; who knows what they have planned. At any rate, it was felt that in order for the tribe to survive, the women and children needed to be protected. Believe me, this was not welcome news for the women, but after some debate, it was agreed that some could volunteer to help the sick, but would not be allowed back into Meirla.”

  “Jensa volunteered to help with Torin,” Reiv said, “but I insisted that she not. And when Cora volunteered in her place—”

  “Jensa would have gone, though she knew the risk. She only bent to Cora’s will for the sake of Kerrik.”

  “That was my argument as well.”

  “At this point, it is Jensa I am worried about, not Kerrik.”

  “How so?”

  “The poor girl cries day and night, Reiv. I do not know how to console her. Even Kerrik brings her no solace. And it is a rare person indeed who cannot be cheered by that child.”

  Reiv felt new hatred surge toward Lyal for preventing him from seeing Jensa. By the gods, when the meeting was over he would speak to her, and not even that strutting rooster would keep him from it.

  The three Elders moved to the dais at the far side of the room. At their backs sat an altar, so large it nearly dwarfed them. Carved from dark, well-oiled wood, the altar was covered with dozens of beeswax candles and pots of simmering incense. Behind it, the skin of a massive sea snake was stretched. Flames flickered from torches lining the perimeter of the room, sending shadows skipping along the walls, and a golden haze drifting through the crowd.

  Yustes called the meeting to order, then beckoned Reiv to approach.

  As Reiv stepped upon the dais, the Elders again tipped their heads. The audience followed suit, except for a few men standing in the back, and Lyal who was seething off to the side.

  “Thank you, Yustes,” Reiv said. He then addressed the crowd. “For my brother’s actions, I have no explanation. I can only say—”

  “We expect no explanation from you,” an angry voice interrupted from the back. Reiv turned his attention to the voice, realizing it was one of Lyal’s cohorts. “There is nothing you can say that I, for one, would believe,” the man declared.

  Voices mumbled, many irritated by the rudeness that had been aimed at Reiv. Few had forgotten Reiv’s bravery in slaying the serpent Seirgotha, and even fewer had forgotten the miracle of his Transcension.

  “Believe what you wish,” Reiv responded. “I, for one, intend to find some answers.”

  The same man snorted. “Answers? What answers would those be? How about we start with why you came here in the first place?”

  “What are you implying?” Reiv asked.

  Another of Lyal’s friends stepped forward. “That you were sent as a spy perhaps?”

  The crowd rumbled. Brina burst onto the dais and faced the accuser down. “How dare you!” she shouted.

  Lyal, who had remained quiet thus far, straightened his spine. “You should not even be here,” he said. “You have no right to speak.”

  “I have every right!” Brina shot back.

  “Enough!” Yustes ordered. “Lyal, you had best keep your corner of the room under some semblance of control.” He turned to Brina. “Madam, if you will be so kind as to step aside. I believe your nephew has come with some news. Is that correct, Reiv?”

  “Yes,” Reiv said grimly. “I believe my brother is not yet finished with us. We need to be prepared for—”

  “For what?” a young man up front asked. “Another slaughter?”

  The crowd grew anxious.

  “How can we prepare for something like that?” voices exclaimed.

  “We can’t!” others cried. “We will end up like those from Pobu. Only this time there’ll be no place to run!”

  Heads waggled as opinions were traded back and forth.

  Reiv raised his palms to calm the crowd. “We must devise a plan. A means of negotiating with the King.”

  “Negotiate?” Lyal grunted.

  “Yes, negotiate,” Reiv said. “We cannot fight him. We are ill prepared. We must bargain with him…offer him something that he wants.”
/>
  “But we have nothing of value,” someone cried. “What could we possibly offer?”

  “We have Reiv,” Lyal said loudly. “Maybe that will appease him.”

  Opposing views rose and fell.

  “What makes you think he wants me?” Reiv asked. “If it were me he wanted, he would have simply come for me.”

  “Perhaps the attack on the Jecta was merely to strike you where it hurt,” Lyal suggested. “The slaughter of the Shell Seekers may be the final twist of the knife.”

  “You are wasting our time trying to second guess Whyn,” Reiv said. “There is no way you can understand the workings of his mind.”

  “That’s right,” the man in the back called out. “After all, we’re not Tearian.”

  “You are more like a Tearian than you know,” Reiv said.

  The man bared his teeth and stormed toward Reiv. A host of arms grabbed him, preventing him from drawing any nearer.

  “I’ll not be insulted by this betrayer!” the man declared over the shouts of those holding him back.

  Lyal stepped to the man and settled him down with orders that Reiv could not hear. He then turned to Reiv. “Excuse my friend’s ire,” Lyal said sarcastically. “But he’s only stating what others are afraid to say.”

  “And that would be?” Reiv asked.

  “That we lived in peace until you showed up a few months back.” Several voices muttered in agreement. Lyal ran his eyes over the crowd. “Is it not true that the day Reiv arrived, so did our troubles?” He pointed a finger at Reiv. “You are the one that brought this on us. If you had not come, none of this would have happened and you know it!”

  Reiv felt the urge to leap into the crowd and pummel the damned fool into the dirt. But before his feet, or his temper, could carry him forward, a man burst into the room.

  “The Guard,” the man cried. “The Guard has come!”

  Back to ToC

  Chapter 17: Dual Identities