Son of Truth (Follower of the Word)

by Morgan L. Busse

  “Temanin?” Lore said, his stomach clenching more. “What were they doing there?”

  “I do not know. You will need to ask the others that question.” She turned and went back to helping the man on the bed.

  Lore walked around her and headed over to Prince Evander, who was talking to the two other men.

  “There was nothing we could do, milord,” the man said in the closest bed. “They caught us by surprise and outnumbered us five to one.”

  “Drake.” Prince Evander spat. “I trusted that man!”

  Lore stepped forward. “Where are the two women who traveled with you?”

  The man turned and looked at Lore. “Captain Lore,” he said. “I’m afraid… That is…” he looked down at his hands. “We could do nothing for them.”

  “What happened to the women?”

  The man looked back up. “Drake wanted the woman named Rowen, not us. He knew what she was.” Lore caught a trace of fear and something darker in the man’s voice. “He planned on using her to make gold in Temanin.”

  “What? How?”

  “Her healing ability.”

  Lore took a step closer to the bed. “And why didn’t you stop him?”

  The man flinched and looked at Prince Evander. “I was just explaining to Prince Evander that Drake and his men caught us by surprise. They outnumbered us. Before we knew what was going on, we were locked up in the hold. They planned on killing us, but Rowen gave her word to Drake she would go with him and heal if he let us all go.”

  Lore blinked in disbelief. “She promised Drake that?” Rowen, what were you thinking?

  “She did it to save us.”

  Lore crossed his arms and studied the man. “So why didn’t you turn back and rescue her?”

  “Drake put us on the beach and sailed away. Aren wanted to follow, but we had no idea where they were going or any supplies, nor any ship. In the end we chose to come back here and report.”

  Lore bit his tongue and turned away. He had a feeling that, even if they could have, this man, and perhaps the others, would not have turned back for Rowen. They were afraid of her, he saw it in the man’s face and heard it in his voice.

  “What happened to the other woman?” Prince Evander asked. “The red-haired one?”

  Lore turned and looked at the man.

  “She was supposed to be left on the beach with us,” he said, his eyes darting toward Lore. “That was part of the arrangement Rowen made. But when Drake dropped us off, he didn’t leave her. I think he took her for…other purposes.”

  “What do you mean?” Prince Evander asked.

  Lore scowled. He knew why.

  “I’m-I’m not sure,” the man said, his head swinging between Lore and Prince Evander. “I think they planned on selling her.”

  Prince Evander swore under his breath. Lore felt the same way.

  The older woman healer walked up to the man’s bed. She gave Prince Evander a quick bow. “Milord, these men need rest. They have been through a lot.”

  Prince Evander sighed. “Yes, Kaila.” He turned and walked over to Lady Astrea, who stood beside the curtains. He pulled her to his chest, held her a moment, then led her toward the door.

  Lore stared at the curtains. On the other side lay Aren.

  “He saved us, you know,” the man said. Lore looked back. “Aren kept us going when we wanted to give up. He found us food and water. He gave up his own portions to keep us alive.”

  Lore tightened his lips and nodded. He remembered the fight they’d had just before Aren had left. Aren had said he did not respect Lore, and that Lore should be the one going with Rowen, not him.

  Aren had been right: He now regretted his decision to stay. If he had been with Rowen, he would have fought to keep her safe with his dying breath. But even then, would he have saved her? Or would he have ended up here, like Aren?

  Lore turned toward the healer Kaila. “Please let me know when Aren wakes up.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  • • •

  There was a knock on the door. Lore glanced up from the chair he had thrown himself across hours ago. Another knock. He blinked and brushed back his hair. How long had it been?

  He pulled himself up and walked across the room. His body felt as though it had been thrown off a cliff and left to be battered by the waves below. Even his thoughts felt muddled, bombarded by shock, guilt, and desperation.

  He opened the door. “Yes?”

  A young servant girl stood at the door. “Captain Lore,” she said, her cheeks flushing. “Kaila sent me to tell you Aren is awake.”

  It took a moment for her words to register. Lore nodded. He stepped out into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

  “Do you…need anything else?” the girl said.

  “What? Oh, no—no, thank you.” Her face fell. “But thank you for letting me know about Aren.”

  “Yes, Captain,” she replied with a slight bob.

  Lore brushed past her down the hall. He wasn’t sure what to expect. What would he say to Aren? What would Aren tell him? With each step he took, his heart twisted inside his chest until it felt like a cloth rung out after washing.

  Lore turned down the hall toward the room Aren was staying in. Word, please help me. He stopped before the double set of doors. Lore looked at the latch for a moment. Then he pressed down on the handle.

  He stepped inside and found the first room empty, save for Kaila, who stood before the long table crushing something in the stone mortar. Her robes looked rumpled, and her hair was coming loose from her bun.

  Lore cleared his throat. “I was told Aren is awake.”

  Kaila turned around. “Captain Lore. Yes, Aren is awake.” She pointed toward the green curtains. “Go ahead.”

  Lore thanked her and headed toward the curtains. He stopped with his hand on the thick, coarse material. He took a deep breath and pulled the curtain aside.

  The room continued on for another thirty feet, stopping at a wall with three windows that overlooked the Illyr Sea, which was still a dull grey. Four more beds lined the left wall, a candle burning above each one. All were empty, except the far one. In the last one lay a figure draped in white linen.

  Aren.

  Lore stepped past the curtain and let it drop behind him.

  Aren lay on his side, his face toward the windows. He did not turn or do anything to acknowledge that he had heard Lore enter. Lore hesitated. He saw a chair wedged between the empty bed and Aren’s. He headed toward the chair, his boots clapping on the marble floor.

  Aren spoke. “She healed me, you know,” he said without turning. His voice sounded bitter and regretful. A lump formed in Lore’s throat as he moved toward the chair. “She healed me so I could escape.”

  Lore sat in the chair.

  “She wanted me to find you.” Aren did turn now, until he was looking at Lore. His eyes were sunken, and his skin was red and peeling. There was a long gash across the cheek that was not tattooed. A scraggly, dirty blond beard covered the lower half of his face. His usual boyish grin was gone, along with the twinkle in his eye. “She wanted me to find you and tell you…that she loves you.”

  Lore’s lungs refused to fill, frozen with the last breath he had taken. Rowen loved him. And he had let her go. Just like that.

  Aren turned and stared at the ceiling. “I couldn’t save her. I tried, but they caught us by surprise. Then she promised herself to those—” Aren swore vehemently in Nordic, something Lore hadn’t heard him do in years.

  Aren settled back on his pillow. “Rowen did it in exchange for our freedom. And I could do nothing to change her mind. I felt so…” he lifted his hand and waved it as if grasping for a word… “helpless.” He stared up at the ceiling, a pained look across his face.

  Lore took a deep breath. “You were right, Aren.” His hand shook on the arm of the chair and his gut ached with guilt. “You were right. I should have gone. I should have resigned my post and left with…” Lore looked away.
He could not say her name. But his heart did. It shouted it. Dear Word, what have I done?

  But you had responsibilities. You couldn’t leave. The rest of his mind crushed that thought in an instant.

  “Captain, you need to go after her.”

  Lore looked at Aren. Aren stared back, grim and resolute. “I know.” The words barely made it past his lips.

  “She’s in Temanin now. Drake planned on using her healing ability there. Lady Astrea, or Prince Evander, or even Lord Tancred might have the resources to find her. But time is running out. And there is one person you know who could help you. Please, Captain. You can’t leave her there.”

  Lore worked his jaw. How in all the Lands could he get into Temanin, much less find Rowen if he got in? The fact that he was from the enemy country wouldn’t exactly make them invite him inside to roam freely.

  “Lord Gaynor’s war contact. He could help you.” Aren stared at Lore.

  Lore nodded slowly. “He might.” During those years of war Lord Gaynor had received special intelligence through a Temanin. Lore had been the courier of that information many times, traveling between Avonai and the White City. In fact, he had just been returning from such a mission when he had arrived in Mostyn and first seen Rowen in the inn that night.

  But he had never met the man. Secrecy was of utmost importance. How would he go about finding him now?

  “Only you had contact with that Temanin,” Aren said. “Through him, you can find a way to get her back.”

  Lore felt the weight of the last few weeks fall away. He knew his path now. “You’re right.” He stood. He was done wavering. No more holding back. It was time for him to join Rowen. Permanently. “I will go talk to Lady Astrea. Then find my contact here in Avonai. Perhaps he knows a way for me to get word to the Temanin agent.”

  A wistful expression filled Aren’s face. “Captain, I wish I could go with you.”

  The corners of Lore’s lips turned up in a sad smile. “I wish that as well. But you are in no condition to leave Avonai. And I think I have a better chance of finding a way into Temanin alone. Aren, you have done everything you could. Now it is my turn.” A thought suddenly struck Lore. “However, there is something you can do for me.”

  “Anything, Captain.”

  Lore stepped toward the edge of Aren’s bed. It was an easy decision, and yet the hardest one to finally make. He stopped beside the bed and looked directly into Aren’s eyes. “Would you take my place as captain?”

  Aren’s eyes widened. His mouth opened, then shut, then opened again, like a fish. “You-you’re asking me to…” He shook his head and looked again at Lore. “You’re asking me to…to take your place? As captain?”

  If the situation weren’t so serious, Lore would have laughed out loud. Never had he seen Aren so dumbstruck. But he was serious. “I trust you more than any man I know. I know you would take as good of care of Lady Astrea and the other guards as I would. You proved it when you brought all those other men back, sacrificing yourself in doing so.”

  A small part of Lore shriveled up and died inside of him as he handed his most prized position over to Aren. He would never be captain again. He would never lead his men or wear the White City tabard. From this point on, he would be only Lore, just a man. He took a deep breath. “Please?”

  Aren studied his hands, now folded on his lap. The soft patter of rain against the glass windows was the only sound in the room.

  Lore watched Aren. Please, please do it.

  Aren looked back up. “I would be willing to take your place until you come back, but if—”

  “No. There is no coming back for me.”

  Aren’s eyes widened. “What?”

  “I’m relinquishing my position permanently.”

  “Are you out of your mind?” Aren struggled to sit up. “You need to think about this more.”

  “I have. I have thought about it ever since Rowen left. The only reason I did not follow her then was because I could not leave Lady Astrea and the people of Ryland at a time like this. But before you left I’d already planned on relinquishing my captaincy. I was going to tell Lady Astrea tomorrow that I would no longer serve her once she bonded with Prince Evander. I knew I could not serve as Captain and follow Rowen. I knew I needed to choose.” Lore let his breath out slowly. “And I choose Rowen.”

  Aren remained silent. He studied Lore as if trying to penetrate his mind. “You really love her, don’t you?”

  Lore swallowed. “Yes.” The word came out as a whisper. “And if she will have me, I will bond with her.”

  Aren lay back down. His eyes were still on Lore. “Yes,” he said finally, “I will take your place. That is, if Lady Astrea will give me the position.”

  “Your name will come with my highest recommendation.”

  Aren’s face softened for the first time. “Thank you, Captain. That is an immense compliment coming from you.”

  “You will make a great captain, Aren. Just like your forefathers.” Lore straightened. “Now I must go and talk to Lady Astrea.” He took a step back from the bed. “Get better, Aren. You have a lot of work ahead of you.”

  “Yes, Captain.” A smile tugged at his lips.

  Lore turned and headed out of the room, feeling both relieved and saddened.

  • • •

  “Captain Lore, I-I don’t know what to say.”

  “I’m sorry, milady.” The shock on Lady Astrea’s face burned itself across Lore’s mind. For as long as he lived, he knew he would never forget this moment, the day he resigned as captain.

  Lady Astrea felt around behind her for the arm of her chair and sat down. A book lay open on the small table next to her, a thin red ribbon marking the page she was on. A fire crackled in the nearby marble fireplace, warming the room and casting their conversation in a subtle orange glow. White bookcases lined either side of the fireplace, with shells, starfish, and other ocean finds on display along the shelves. A clock sat on the mantle, marking off each second with a soft tick. A white and light blue braided rug lay on the marble floor.

  “I have to ask why.” She clasped the round wooden arms of the chair. “Have I done something to cause this?”

  “No!” Lore took a step forward. “It has nothing to do with you. It has to do with…” He let his breath out slowly. “It has to do with Rowen.”

  “Rowen?”

  “Yes.” Lore walked toward the fireplace and put his hand on the mantle. Confession time, he thought and stared into the flames. “Since the moment I found out about Rowen’s truthsaying power, I have wanted to help her with that burden.” He turned and looked at Lady Astrea. “Because I love her.”

  The confusion on Lady Astrea’s face vanished. “I see,” she said with a sad look of understanding. “I would ask you to reconsider, but I know you did not make this decision lightly.”

  “No, I did not. If there was any other way…” Lore sighed and looked down. “But there isn’t. So I again respectfully request permission to resign as Captain of the Guard.”

  The room was silent, save for the ticking of the clock. Tick. Tick. Tick.

  “Yes.” The word was so quiet that Lore wasn’t sure he had heard her at first. “Yes, I release you, Lore Palancar. I release you from your service to my family.”

  It was done. It was really done. He was now free to find Rowen. And yet his heart ached for a future he would never experience, for the position he had given up. It would take time for him to move on. “Thank you, milady.”

  She gave him a small nod, her lips trembling.

  “Before I go, I wanted to present a name of someone who would serve you well as Captain of the Guard.”

  Lady Astrea nodded. “I will consider any name you bring me.”

  “Aren.”

  Lady Astrea remained quiet. “He is a good man,” she said softly. “He remained by my side during our escape from Avonai. Do you think he could handle the responsibilities of captain?” She glanced up at Lore.

  “Yes.”<
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  “Then I will think about it.”

  “Thank you, milady.” Lore bowed and felt a strange sense of relief. At least he would not be leaving Lady Astrea or the White City without a potential leader. But it would not be him.

  15

  Dull grey clouds filled the sky over Avonai like a wool blanket. Cold rain drizzled down on the stone houses and streets, leaving everything wet and dark. Shutters were closed, and only a thin crack of warm light shone through the windows.

  Lore splashed through the streets, his pants and cloak already damp from the precipitation. The misty rain clung to his face and pattered softly across his head, running through his hair and following the curves of his face. Lore licked his lips and tasted the rainwater.

  Inside his chest, he could feel the ebb and flow of the Illyr Sea. Its strength boosted his determination. He would first need to find out where the Temanin agent lived, most likely somewhere south in Temanin. Then he would need to find a ship that could take him there. Then sneak into Temanin and reach the agent who had worked for Lord Gaynor. Then maybe, just maybe, he would have a chance at finding Rowen. It was worth pursuing, anyway.

  Lore turned the corner and made his way along one of the narrow cobblestone streets that ran parallel to the city wall. Old crates and barrels stood outside narrow doorways, and dingy windows lined the dark row of houses. Fishing nets were hooked across weatherworn boards. He passed a black shaggy dog that sat outside a fish shop, a forlorn look on the dog’s face.

  Lore gave the dog a quick pat and walked past. He turned another corner, slowed, and shaded his eyes against the rain. He counted the doors until he found the one he was looking for. He stepped across the street, bypassing a large puddle, and stopped before the door. A dim light shone out through the window to the right. Lore knocked.