Aram shook his head slightly. “No, my friend, that was but a small bit of his power. He may have suffered a wound but it was slight.” He scowled. “And you are correct—he will return. I don’t know how soon it will be but certainly he won’t wait very long. We are now a very black thought lodged solidly in his evil mind.”
Findaen drained his cup and grinned fiercely. “Well—to hell with him and his evil mind. Enough of these dark thoughts on such a bright morning. Let’s go down to breakfast—Ka’en will be there.”
Aram looked at him sharply but he had turned away and was moving down the stairs. Aram followed him to the lower level.
Breakfast was served in a bright room on the eastern side of the house by the kitchen. A familiar aroma struck Aram’s nose as he entered the hallway between the two rooms and he glanced around to discover with surprise that Ka’en was standing next to a metal, flat-topped stove, stirring potatoes. He’d assumed that because of her exalted station, she would be exempt from doing the menial work of the house.
She looked up and smiled at him. “Good morning, my lord. I hope you don’t mind potatoes two meals in a row?”
“Not at all, my lady, I think they may be my favorite food.” It sounded maudlin and he grimaced as he turned away toward the table but Findaen, sitting with his arms folded across his chest, grinned up at him.
Jena was seated next to him, frowning at her sister. She gave Aram a quick, lopsided smile and tossed her yellow curls. “What do you think of that, lord Aram?”
He frowned at her. “Of what, my lady?”
Jena pointed toward the kitchen. “Of my sister, cooking like a servant.”
Aram smiled gently. “I cook all my own meals—over a fire. Have done so for many years. And they are barely worth eating. But, my lady, had I known that such behavior offends you, I would have trained Borlus to do it.”
“Who’s Borlus?” She asked, politely enough, but her mouth pouted at him.
“He’s my bear. And I think he actually eats without cooking at all.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You own a bear?”
“No, I don’t own a bear, my lady. Who can own another creature? He’s a friend. He lives in a cave near the walls of my city.”
She stared at him. “Could I see him?”
“If you come and visit me, yes.” He nodded. “Although, like myself, he is a bit shy.”
She laughed. “You’re not shy—you nearly came into our room last night.”
“Jena!” Ka’en came quickly in from the kitchen, but Findaen shouted with laughter.
“Oho!” he roared. “Tell me about this, girls.”
Aram felt his face go red.
“There’s nothing to tell, Fin.” Ka’en stood in the doorway with her hands on her hips and frowned at Jena. “Lord Aram got lost in the halls last night and I helped him find his way to his room.”
Findaen leaned back in his chair and raised his eyebrows. “Did you now?”
Ka’en sighed and turned to Aram. “I’m sorry, my lord. The behavior of my brother and sister is abominable. Please excuse them.”
Aram returned her smile, gazing up into her marvelous eyes. “It’s alright, my lady, I had had too much of that wine. I was—”
“Drunk!” Interjected Findaen.
“Is that what you call it?” Aram asked him coolly.
“Yes.” Findaen grinned at him. “Fun, huh?”
Aram thought about it a moment and then smiled wryly. “Actually, last night was pleasant all the way around.” He glanced up at Ka’en. “The most pleasant time of my life.”
She smiled at him, shot Findaen and Jena a frown and turned to bring the food to the table. The conversation at breakfast was pleasant enough but was dominated by Jena, who plied Aram with questions about his home and his bear, and Findaen, who teased everyone mercilessly.
Aram wanted to find time to visit exclusively with Ka’en but didn’t know how to accomplish it. In the end, he bade the two women to have a fine day and accompanied Findaen to the council house where, Findaen informed him, Lancer was dealing with the day’s municipal matters.
The council chamber was beside Lancer’s house on the west side of the main street. When Aram and Findaen entered and sat in the back, Lancer was dealing with two men involved in a legal civil dispute. Lancer sat in an elevated chair with a tall back carved with an eagle’s head. To his right, also in elevated chairs, were six citizens of the city with whom Lancer occasionally conferred.
Lancer acknowledged Aram with a polite nod of his head but kept his attention centered on the two men arguing before him. Looking up on the wall behind Lancer, Aram saw that his gift of the jeweled sword had been placed conspicuously on the wall behind the Prince’s chair.
It soon became obvious that the city’s business would consume most of Lancer’s day so Findaen suggested that they go out into the town and the valley so that Aram could see how the Derosans lived. Aram spent the morning in meeting the various business men along the main thoroughfare and then they lunched at the tavern.
In the afternoon, Findaen took him out into the valley and showed him the various crops that they grew, including brown and gold leaf, from which the smokes were made, and potatoes. The farmers Aram met were all quite alike, sturdy, quiet men who seemed content to pour their strength into the soil. Once again, Aram realized that this was how the Maker intended his people to be—working happily and freely at whatever toil made them content.
Supper brought Aram another disappointment in that there were many guests and most of them wished to monopolize his time. He was not able to exchange more than a greeting with Ka’en. And the blond-haired, sturdy young man was there again, sitting as near to Ka’en as possible. Aram learned from Findaen that the young man’s name was Kemul and that he had “designs” on his sister.
Wine was again poured in abundance, though tonight Aram was wiser in his consumption of the delicious liquid, and there were more of Fiera’s fine rolled smokes. Aram was completely occupied by those sitting near him and when he looked up for the hundredth time late in the evening, Ka’en was gone.
Then Lancer rose and everyone turned to listen.
“I’m turning in now, my friends, and I wish you all a pleasant evening. For those of you on the military council—remember that we meet here at ten in the morning.” He looked at Aram. “I would be pleased if you would join us, lord Aram.”
Aram rose and bowed. “If you wish it, my lord.”
Lancer nodded, turned away and left the room. Shortly afterward Aram followed suit. He didn’t wish to offend but he’d had enough of bawdy and pointless conversation and Lancer’s exit provided him with a protocol to do the same.
Again that night his thoughts were full of Ka’en, of whether a relationship might develop and what the nature of that relationship might be. It was deep in the night before he was able to sleep and Findaen roused him early the next morning.
They breakfasted in the great hall with Lancer and other men of the town, including Mallet, Jonwood, and Wamlak. All of those present were obviously of a more militant bent than their fellow citizens. Findaen’s sisters were nowhere in sight. Nor was Kemul. This meeting dealt purely with the defense of the city. When the food was gone and the cups were filled with kolfa, Lancer brought the meeting to order and immediately turned the proceedings over to his son.
Findaen stood and looked around at the assembled men. “Fellow citizens, we are fortunate to be seated here still able to discuss how we may resist the grim lord of the north. This is almost completely due to the efforts of lord Aram—of lord Aram’s friends, for which we are grateful beyond our ability to express it.”
He bowed toward Aram and the men seated around the table looked in his direction with varying degrees of curiosity, respect and sincere admiration on their countenances. Aram acknowledged their attention self-consciously and looked down at his hands folded upon the table. Findaen continued.
“Our captain of the guard, Jonwood Cans
el, has suggested that some of us do a reconnaissance as far as the Broad River to see whether we might return to work on some of the lands in that direction. Also to see whether or not the enemy has intentions of moving against us any time soon.”
He looked around the table. “Wamlak Shurtan has expressed interest in going. Is there anyone else who can take time away from their family and work to accompany them? We’d like to send four or five.”
There was a moment of silence as everyone looked at everyone else or studied the table thoughtfully. Then a large sturdy man of middle age stood up. Findaen acknowledged him.
“Dane Sekish?”
The man nodded. “My ancestral home is along Broad River. If I could work some of that bottom land, even for just one season—it would help us all. I’d like to go along.”
Findaen nodded. “Good. Anyone else?”
A small, slim man with long blond hair got to his feet.
“Erak Barris?”
The man grinned. “I don’t have any particular reason for going across the plains like Dane here. I’d just like to go. My dad is always saying I’d make a better soldier than a farmer.”
“Good enough.” Findaen said. “Anyone else? Okay, you four will go. Go and come back as expeditiously as possible. I’d like you to go west just south of the green hills as far as the river, then swing south to Dane’s old farm and come back that way. Don’t get into any fights if you run into Manon’s men. And certainly don’t challenge any lashers.”
He glanced down at Aram. “Lord Aram, you know more of these things than we do. Do you think it likely that they will encounter any enemies?”
Aram considered a moment. He felt as if he should maybe offer to go along but he didn’t think Manon’s men would come back upon the plains except in force and that would likely not occur for some time. More than anything else, he wanted to stay around and get to know Ka’en. Also, the horses would find their way into his valley at any time and he would have to return home. He shook his head.
“Probably not. Manon will come back, certainly, but he will be more cautious next time and he will want to come in force. I can’t say for certain, but I doubt that he will return before some time late this year or next.”
Findaen nodded thoughtfully. “That makes sense. All right, you four get ready and leave as soon as possible. If we’re going to be able to use any of the farms on the plains for a crop this year, we need to know as soon as possible. Now, on to other things.”
The rest of the meeting dealt with details of the town’s defenses and repairs to the wall over the river. By the time it was done, it was nearly noon. As the men drifted away, Findaen drew Aram out into the street and up the side stairs of Lancer’s home to the second floor.
“I have a gift for you, my friend.”
Aram glanced at him sidelong. “A gift?”
“Don’t worry.” Findaen chuckled. “You’ll approve.”
He led Aram into a small room that opened out onto the veranda. Inside, there was a small round table with two chairs. It was set for a meal. Findaen waved him into a chair.
“Have a seat, my lord. I’ve arranged for lunch and conversation.”
Aram shrugged. “Well, I am hungry. What do you want to discuss?”
Findaen laughed. “Oh, not me. You’ll have to talk to Ka’en.”
Just then the interior door opened and she entered. She gave Aram a quick smile and looked expectantly at Findaen. “You wanted to see me?”
“Only for a moment. I have things to do.” He grinned. “I wondered if perhaps you might join lord Aram for lunch—I hate to see him dine alone.”
She stood very still for a moment. Aram got to his feet, but Findaen stepped back and gazed at them, his demeanor suddenly serious. “I apologize for any imposition but there really are things that require my attention. I will not be able to attend lord Aram for the next few hours. I thought Ka’en, that you—” He spread his hands wide. “Look—I really must go. I will see you later, my lord.”
He bowed slightly, spun quickly on his heels and left the room.
Ka’en gazed after him for a moment and then turned and smiled uncertainly at Aram.
“I have no other engagements, my lord.” She moved toward the table. “If you are free also, then we might as well not waste my brother’s efforts.”
Aram went around and pulled back her chair as he’d seen her father do for her. “Actually, my lady, I prefer this.”
When she was seated, he went to his chair and sat and gazed down at the table frowning.
“Is something wrong, my lord?”
He looked up at her. “No, my lady, not wrong, exactly. It’s just that—do you think that we could dispense with calling me ‘lord’—at least between us?”
It was her turn to frown. “But you are recognized as the master of a land to the north, equal, at least, to the Prince of our own city. Everyone else will call you lord, and rightly so. How could I not?”
“But not between us.” He insisted and he waved his hand over the table to indicate the two of them. “Not when it is just us.”
She leaned her head slightly and smiled. “I see—when we are alone.”
“Yes, my lady. In private I would prefer it if you simply called me by my name.”
Just then a young man and woman in white brought the food to the table. Ka’en lowered her eyes and was silent until they left. Then she looked up at him. Her smile was full, giving him a glimpse of startlingly white teeth, and her eyes twinkled.
“I will call you Aram if you will call me Ka’en—in private. In public, we must continue to be formal.”
He returned her smile. “Thank you—Ka’en.” It was remarkable, he thought; even her name tasted delicious, like honey on his tongue when he spoke it.
She pushed at her food with her fork and glanced up at him. “I saw you before, you know.”
“Before?” He gazed at her without comprehension.
“I saw you that day on the plain.”
“But—how could you? The distance was—it was so far.”
She smiled triumphantly. “See? It was you. You’ve just admitted as much.”
He watched her closely for a moment, trying to gauge her mood, but she was not being mischievous. Instead, she simply seemed pleased with herself and returned his gaze with her honest, lovely eyes.
“How could you tell?” He asked.
“You looked right at me.”
“Yes.” He acknowledged, and continued on before he could stop himself. “I did. It was a strange, terrible day. And then, after everything that happened—to look up and see you standing there, it was amazing. You were so beautiful. I’d never seen anyone like you. It was—startling.”
She blushed in the face of his blunt admiration. Then, putting her fork down on the table, she folded her hands in her lap and met his eyes with hers. “Who are you, Aram?”
He hesitated. “What do you mean?”
“Everyone says something different about you.” She explained and she shrugged slightly as she said it. “Findaen thinks that maybe you were sent here by the gods. My father believes that you are a descendent of the old kings. Some people—Mallet, for one—think you are a god. No one knows for sure. Will you tell me?”
Sitting in the quiet of that room, gazing at her beautiful, placid face, it seemed to Aram that the world had constricted until it held just the two of them. He’d been alone for so long and he had never shared himself with anyone. Perhaps, now, it was time for all of that to change. He realized that if he would tell anyone about himself, it would be her. And so he told her.
Hiding nothing, he told her of his youth as a slave in the nondescript village on the plains, of the taking of his sister and the death of his parents. He described the terrible transport into the hills, watching her closely to see if she thought less of him because of what he’d been before. But she just gazed back in rapt silence.
When he told of the escape and of Decius’ subsequent death, her eyes
grew moist. She shuddered slightly when he told of the flood that had sucked him into the mountain. He described the long climb up through the dark and told of the discovery of the city. And then he told her of the finding of the two dead men and of going to war with the wolves.
“That would have been Calar and Harsl.” She said quietly, almost in a whisper. “They disappeared six or seven years ago. Calar was my cousin.”
He nodded in silent commiseration and then, after a moment, continued his narrative. As he was telling of his contest with the wolves on the cold, snowy night when he’d nearly died, he was staring down at the table as he spoke. Hearing a soft noise, he looked up at her. She was weeping.
“I’m sorry, my lady. I didn’t mean to upset you—I assure you, it wasn’t as bad as it sounds.”
She wiped her eyes and shook her head. “It’s just that it—it makes me sad to think of you going through something like that and being so alone.”
He didn’t know how to respond so he just smiled gently. “Well, I did get through it alright. Turns out I wasn’t as easy to kill as the wolves would have liked. And it wasn’t really their fault, anyway. All the evil things they have done can be laid at Manon’s door.” He waited while she dabbed at her eyes. “Would you like me to continue, my lady?”
She looked up at him in quick reproof. “Only if you call me Ka’en.”
He felt his insides grow warm. His story, rather than making her see him as he’d thought it might—a lowborn slave from the plains who’d become nothing more than a savage, barbarian killer—seemed instead to be having a very different and profound effect upon her. And so he told her everything, about Florm, and Thaniel, Durlrang, and Borlus the bear. The only thing he left out was of the finding of the Call of Kelven and the two Guardians.
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