by Rae Brooks
“You think?” one of the other men asked. “I’ve heard it’s a monstrous place. That there is all sorts of crime in the streets and that commoners, and sometimes noblemen, have to fight for their lives on a daily basis.”
Aela thought this man sounded more frightened than she might have been the sun Taeru left, but she didn’t say as much. If someone wanted to make her look braver, then she wasn’t going to protest. Leif laughed. “I don’t think it’s so bad,” he said coolly.
The conversation had dissolved into small talk. A few of the men asked Leif questions about his travels, and Leif answered easily. Still, no one looked to Aela, who hadn’t said a word. She wasn’t the only one, but as introductions progressed, she realized that the number of soldiers that hadn’t spoken was dwindling. Soon, she would have to speak or risk exposure.
The conversation managed to stay local just long enough for her to see the city gates outside of the wagon’s cover. She worked not to smile. She was nearly there, and the next step wouldn’t occur for another sun at least. Leif stepped up and spoke to the driver. “You know we need to hurry to get out of the city lands,” he said flatly.
The driver muttered something in the affirmative. The more people that saw them near Cathalar, the more likely that they would be found out when they got closer to Telandus. People talked, and there were always people around to see them. Aela could feel the moment the driver decided they should begin their hurry, because the horses started running, and she was quite convinced that the wagon was going to fall apart.
She had ridden in wagons before, though they were much fancier than this one—and never had one of them been drawn by horses that were actually galloping! Panic surged through her as the wagon rocked her body.
“So how much food do we have?” one of the soldiers asked. Aela had heard that his name was Patea. He was one of the few who had been convinced that Telandus wasn’t so bad. Aela didn’t know if she agreed or not.
Leif glanced at him thoughtfully. Aela found herself staring at the dark, blue eyes. She had never seen Leif in any situation other than at a dinner table, and then he had always seemed like such a boy—here, he looked like a man, and her heart felt a little thrilled at the sight of him. She swallowed the thought. She was supposed to be a man, after all!
Even Aela Lassau had no feelings for Leif Firenz, and Aela Lassau was not going to be present for quite some time. She could work out those feelings when she reclaimed her title as princess, she decided. “Not much. We brought food for a few suns, but soon we’ll have to trade with the people that we run into,” Leif answered Patea.
The man seemed to think on this for a moment, and then he nodded. Perhaps he had hoped that they had brought more. Aela certainly did. She wondered if her presence would mean that they had even less food. She didn’t dwell on it, ensuring herself that they would see plenty of traders so that it wasn’t an issue. “And we can always hunt,” one of the men beside her said. “You hunt?” the man asked her. “You have a bow.”
Panic. She felt her heart beat much faster at the idea of being addressed. They were not far from the city, and they could easily turn around and deliver her back to the castle. She worked to make sure that her voice was precisely as she had practiced, though she didn’t know how convincing her practiced voice sounded.
She had to answer, though, and if she didn’t answer soon—everyone would be looking at her and wondering why she had taken so long. She would just have to hope that they didn’t think much of a feminine voice. “I…” she spoke with her strange inflection. “I have hunted before, yes,” she answered.
For a moment, she was sure that the entire wagon had turned to stare at her as if she had just sprouted another head. Then, she realized that no one was the least bit interested, and the man she had spoken to nodded amiably. “Well, that’s good. Not much with a bow, myself,” he answered.
That had worked! She nearly leapt up in celebration, before realizing that would probably negate all the hard work she’d done on her voice. So they didn’t know! She smiled and felt a surge of bravery when she spoke again. “It isn’t a weapon for everyone, and it’s worthless if the enemy gets close enough.” When she listened, she thought her voice sounded better the second time.
The man smiled again and nodded his head. Aela felt a smug look coming onto her face when she turned her head to meet the wide eyes of Leif Firenz. Seeing as he was the only one that she didn’t mind knowing, she winked at him and did a little wave with her fingers. He looked horrified. “What’s your name, lad?” the man beside her asked. “You look a little young to be on such a dangerous journey.”
“I look younger than I am,” she answered instantly. “Name’s Aelic Eirgold,” she said. She’d researched that name plenty as well, and she was contented that it wouldn’t be too easy to disprove.
“Good to meet you, Aelic,” he said, “my name is Frell Alade.” The man seemed much older than Leif or herself. He had wrinkles along his face, and when he smiled, more of them appeared from years of laughter. His hair was brown—what she could see of it, anyway, as he was wearing a cloak—and he had a light beard around his chin.
“Aelic,” Leif echoed warily.
She turned to smile at him in the sweetest way that she could. He was probably fighting with himself on whether to be impressed or terrified. She thought the conflicted look was a good one for him. “Indeed, goodsir,” she answered easily.
Confidence was renewed, and she felt as though she would be able to be friendly with these men. She had dealt with soldiers and commoners before, and she knew what they expected—and how to be one of them. Perhaps this journey would be one where she could make friends, and may even find that she enjoyed herself.
How bad could Telandus truly be?
“And without knowledge or understanding, the boy left his home, and all that he had to fulfill his promise.”
-A Hero’s Peace v.ii
Chapter xii
Calis Tsrali
Calis sat in the courtyard of palace. Court had left a bad taste in his mouth, at best, and he had wanted nothing more than to escape it. He was fairly certain that within a few more meetings with her—he would be expected to propose to Lady Avyon. He did not want to, but if he didn’t, his father wasn’t going to leave him alone.
Lady Avyon had become the only option, as apparently in Calis’s excursion to Dokak, the Avyon family had become much wealthier. They had come into a fortune and that meant that Calis would be expected to find some way to get them locked under Lavus’s wing. Not only did Calis not like the idea of marrying Lady Avyon, but he didn’t like the idea of helping his father gain power.
The summer heat caused him to shift a little and he pulled at the white shirt that he wore as his only protection from the sun. He would probably be scolded if his father saw him in such unrefined clothing, but he didn’t care. He was glad that the Avyons had returned to their home and he wouldn’t have to deal with them anymore.
Calis had wanted to talk to Lee about the situation, but his advisor was elsewhere—probably in Dark District. Calis wouldn’t have minded being there himself. He ran his fingers through his blond hair.
Eventually, his brother caught his eye, or rather, his eyes found nothing more interesting than his brother as he surveyed the courtyard. Tareth’s long braid had never been a hairstyle that Calis had understood, nor did he plan on it. Calis had never understood any noblemen’s interest in longer hair. Perhaps in the winter he could see having it, but in this heat, Calis couldn’t have imagined having hair any longer than his own. After all, Telandus had very little winter at all.
He watched his brother talk with a few of the women who hadn’t yet left to return to their homes after court. Tareth tended to come alive during court, like a need in him was awakened. Fortunately for Tareth, they had held court for several of the suns over the past few cycles. The fortune did not apply to Calis, however, as he had been needed nearly every second. He hadn’t had a single opportunit
y to return to Dark District.
He had certainly thought of it, though. His meeting with Kilik had served to increase his interest in the boy tenfold. The boy was as diligent as he was stubborn, and Calis didn’t even try to deny that he enjoyed the company. The strange thing was that Calis rarely enjoyed the company of another—in fact, Lee was the only person whose company he had ever truly enjoyed before Kilik.
While he hadn’t minded the girls at Dark District festival, he certainly hadn’t desired to be around them more. He had been grateful for their assistance in showing him how to conduct himself at a Dark District affair—but that was all. Kilik was different, and Calis found that his mind had been refusing to think of much else recently.
In fact, all through court, Calis had thought about the boy. Somehow, that had made the experience even less enjoyable than it already was. The thought of Kilik did more to him than simply distract him—it bothered him. Calis wished fervently that he lived in Dark District and was free to pursue the blue-eyed boy at his leisure. Though, he was sure the people of Dark District were plenty busy—at least he would have been being productive while he couldn’t get to Kilik. As it was, he felt like he was wasting away while the only person he’d ever found—well, desirable—toiled away in Dark District.
Desirable? Calis’s mind asked him. No, I don’t desire Kilik. I just want his company—that’s all. There is nothing to this aside from wanting a friend. I haven’t been allowed many of those, and I know that. My feelings for Kilik are platonic, surely. Not only is he a commoner, but he is a male. Father would have my head.
But was that his reason for not wanting Kilik in a way that spoke of more than friendship? Was he avoiding it because it was unacceptable, or because he didn’t want it? His heart skipped a little at the idea and he forced it from his mind.
“Brother,” Tareth said amiably. Calis hadn’t noticed the stocky boy come over to him, but now he was before him.
“What is it, Tareth?” Calis asked unhappily. The last thing he wanted to do was converse with his brother. Tareth was no doubt feeling smug about the way court had gone—considering court was the only time Tareth seemed more at ease than Calis.
Tareth looked annoyed at being regarded so dispassionately, but he pressed forward anyway. “You seem distracted. Mother commissioned me to ask of you what was wrong,” he said slowly. “She said she didn’t think you would talk to her.”
Distracted? Calis supposed that was a fair assessment of his state lately. Lavus would never have noticed, but Claudia had never been one to ignore her sons’ ailing. This was not a matter that Calis would have ever discussed with Tareth, though, or his mother. “Nothing, Tareth,” he answered, “may I ask you something, though?”
“Certainly,” Tareth answered. The smugness seemed to drain from the broader boy as he watched his brother. There were moments when Calis was certain that if things were different, Tareth would have been a trusted friend of his. Nevertheless, Lavus had made sure that they would never be anything but rivals or enemies.
Calis stood off the stone wall on which he had been leaning. He made sure to lower his voice, as he didn’t want his brother feeling as though he was trying to accuse. “Why is it that you go to Dark District? You do often, do you not?”
There was a glint in Tareth’s eyes, and Calis was sure it was of amusement. “Honestly, brother—to remind myself how fortunate I am. As you are well aware, I’m sure, I feel inadequate here, and so I go there to show myself how much worse off I could be.” Though Calis didn’t inform him, he considered most of the people he’d met in Dark District far superior to Tareth.
To say the least, Calis didn’t approve of his brother’s response. Rather than mentioning the issue, though, he phrased another question. “So why is it that you steal from them?” Calis asked.
“That is solely for amusement. Though, it provided significantly more amusement before that stupid boy masquerading about decided to interfere every time I go down there,” Tareth said hatefully. Their eyes met and Calis was sure that Tareth still blamed him for squandering his chance to catch the Phantom Blade.
Calis chuckled. “He does seem to give the nobles quite a rough time.”
“When I catch him, I will have him hanged.” Calis’s jaw tensed. “After I beat him,” Tareth added with a low growl. “I will enjoy every moment of that. I just can’t believe how difficult it has been to find out who he is—he doesn’t even wear that much armor. I have probably beaten every dark-skinned, small-bodied male in that district, and none of them want to admit who they are.”
Kilik flashed before Calis’s eyes and his body twitched in an unexpected fury. Calis contained his rage, though, and spoke calmly. “Perhaps he is a noble,” he said.
“No noble would dirty himself to that level, brother. I assure you—no, the boy has the look of a peasant—and I enjoy seeking out the commoners that could be him and making their lives miserable.” Calis had never wanted to hurt his brother as badly as he did then. Kilik fit Tareth’s description perfectly.
Oddly enough, Calis couldn’t control himself anymore. “The people of Dark District are not the reason father doesn’t like you,” he snapped, and then he brushed by his brother without worrying with the man’s feelings further.
As he walked away, he was sure that he’d made some massive mistake—but he didn’t care. The idea of his brother going into Dark District and…
No, he wouldn’t think of that or he might turn around and finish what he’d started with Tareth. But as always, Tareth was far too much of a coward to actually pursue. He would just sulk about it—like he always did. If Calis had thought taking the issue to his father would do any good, he would have. He could have told Lavus that Tareth’s frequenting Dark District was making him even more of an embarrassment, but then Lavus would just question why Calis cared about Tareth or Dark District.
If Calis wanted to ensure that Tareth didn’t bother Kilik—or Dark District—then he would have to do so himself. But going there now would not have been advisable, as his father would be expecting him at dinner. Lavus didn’t often force his children, or even wife, to eat dinner with him—but on the rare occasions that he did, he expected them all promptly in attendance.
Not wanting to run into Tareth again, for fear that he may run his brother through, Calis returned to his own room. Tareth and Calis had an unspoken agreement that they would never seek the other out, unless the other was in plain view and clearly not doing anything relevant. The agreement had originated from the fact that when they did seek one another out—they ended up fighting over something or another.
Calis was certain that Tareth would return to their mother and tell some elaborate lie about what was ailing Calis. He didn’t care though—Claudia had thought something was wrong with Calis for quite some time. Calis lacked the ambition that Claudia expected him to have, and while he suspected that his mother and brother conspired against his father—he wanted nothing to do with it. He may not like Lavus, but causing a conspiracy and letting people just as power-hungry as Lavus rule in his stead seemed like more trouble than it was worth.
Lavus was just someone who should not have been in power, though Calis doubted honestly that most of the nobles in Telandus could do a better job. Telandus was not Cathalar—and therefore not known for its merciful and gentle rulers. What had inevitably driven the nations apart rested in the fact that Telandus didn’t know when to stop taking. Lavus had been worse than most, undoubtedly, but not by that much.
And Calis had a strong feeling that Claudia would rule in much the same manner. He felt as if every noble in the Shining District had some long standing hatred for Cathalar. None of them would have left well enough alone, and eventually, all of them would have pushed Veyron into a war that he probably didn’t want. Calis didn’t understand it, either. Telandus would lose the war—and so for years these rulers had been pushing for a war that would destroy their kingdom.
Yet there had been no plans to change the
course of the war. The nations surrounding Telandus left it constantly isolated because of the way the rulers handled things. It made no sense, when he stopped to think about it. Why did his father want a war that he couldn’t win? Lavus was not suicidal, nor had any of the rulers before him been.
Lying down on his bed, he stared blankly up at the ceiling of his room. The strangeness behind Telandus’s downward spiral that would lead to its inevitable destruction made little sense. And he thought it odd that he was only realizing this now. Calis had never paused to think about why there would be a war—only that he knew there needed to be a war because Cathalar and Telandus were at odds.
But now he wondered if there was really a need for the war at all. After all, why throw lives away? Calis didn’t even see any point in needlessly killing Cathalar citizens anymore. There had been a time in his youth when the idea of leading an army into Cathalar and destroying it had enticed him, but that desire seemed entirely barbaric and unnatural when he thought of it now. Growing up seemed to contain much more change than he would have ever expected.
I wonder what life is like in Cathalar, he thought absently. He had never really considered it. He’d always seen them as pompous nobles who thought all of Telandus was full of barbarians, but perhaps there was more to it than that. After all, Veyron was much more well-liked than Lavus was, and the Cathalari were the ones who were withholding their forces—despite being almost certain that they would win. Calis supposed they could think that Lavus had some reason for pushing for the war, but they would be mistaken if they thought that.
There shouldn’t be a war, his mind informed him in a moment of clarity. The war was entirely unnecessary, and the fact that his father was pushing for one made no sense. He knew there was no way he could ever speak to Lavus on the issue—because his father was beyond reasoning, but now he knew that when he became king—if Lavus ever stepped down—he would stop this needless violence.
