Son of Truth (Follower of the Word)

by Morgan L. Busse

  Love others. Give, despite the cost. He was an Eldaran now, a Son of Truth. Though he still did not understand what it meant, he knew one thing, the one thing the Word had told him to do: Love others.

  He glanced to his right. Others, like Nierne.

  Caleb led the way around a corner. Ahead, the palace arose before them like a monolith toward the sky. Caleb heard Nierne’s quick intake of breath and the corner of his mouth lifted. “Welcome to my home.”

  The Tala Palace was almost as old as the city itself, having been built by a distant ancestor. The palace was made of sand-colored stone, which looked golden beneath the torches lit along the ramparts. Palms and cypress trees grew along the tall stone wall that enclosed the palace from the rest of the city. Lights glittered amongst the many arched windows that lined the second and third story windows. Black banners bearing the head of a scarlet wolf fluttered from the highest roof, a shade lighter than the night sky.

  Warmth spread through his veins, washing away the darker feelings from moments ago. He was finally home. Caleb steered his horse toward the main gate, remembering the last time he had passed through those doors, heading out on a mission for Corin up north. Never had he dreamed how much his life would change.

  Four guards stood by the gates, two on either side. They were dressed in black with long dark cloaks and black helms with a red plume on top. A long, curved sword hung at each of their sides.

  One held up his hand and approached Caleb. “Halt!”

  Caleb went to hold up his signet ring then remembered Meira had it. So he stopped his horse instead and looked at the guard. “Caleb Tala, here to see his lordship, Corin Tala.”

  “Lord Tala.” The guard backed away in a half bow. “We haven’t seen you in some time. Please, proceed.”

  Caleb nodded. Two of the other guards were already opening the gates. He urged his horse forward. Nierne followed. The guards watched Nierne but didn’t say a word.

  Spacious gardens filled with trees and thick bushes covered in pink flowers the size of a man’s hand surrounded the palace inside the walls. The sound of water trickling came from hidden pools and waterfalls, and an earthy fragrance hung in the air.

  Torches were lit along the wide gravel path that led toward the portico ahead. Tall marble columns held the roof over the main entry. Doors the height of two men were red and trimmed in gold. A guard stood on either side of the doors, each with a pole-arm in hand.

  Caleb stopped just before the light’s edge and dismounted. He unlatched his pack, swung it onto his back, and turned to see if Nierne needed any help. She was already down from her horse and walking awkwardly toward him, muttering something about “never again.”

  He had a feeling he knew what she was talking about. He felt the same way himself: stiff, sore, and in need of a bath.

  A stable boy stepped out from the shadows near the right side of the palace.

  Caleb held out his reins. “Take our horses to the stables and see to them.”

  The young man bowed, and took the reins. “Yes, milord.”

  Caleb led Nierne past the columns and headed toward the doors. Gravel crunched beneath his boots. He glanced around. Nothing had changed over the months he had been gone. Everything looked and felt the same. Like home.

  “Lord Tala.” The guards bowed as he approached. The one to the right opened the door for him. Caleb walked past without saying a word.

  Their gazes switched to Nierne.

  One brought his pole-arm down in front of her, barely missing her nose. Nierne jumped back with a yelp. “Halt there! No one enters the palace without the consent of Lord Corin.”

  Caleb turned. “The woman is with me.”

  The guard gave Caleb another quick bow. “My apologies, milord.” His bronze skin grew pale. “But Lord Corin has decreed—”

  “I will take this matter up myself with my cousin. In the meantime, the woman stays with me.”

  “But—”

  Caleb stared at the guard. “You do not want to stop me.”

  The guard hesitated. His gaze shifted between Caleb and Nierne. He bowed. “Yes, milord.”

  “Good. Any repercussions from bringing this woman inside will fall on me, not you.”

  The guard nodded but kept his head bowed.

  Caleb motioned for Nierne to follow him inside. She hurried over the threshold.

  A golden chandelier hung high above the entrance hall. Woven tapestries of past Temanin battles dangled from wooden rods hung along the walls. Palm trees in copper pots had been placed against the thick marble columns that held the ceiling high overhead. Across the white marble floor lay a deep red rug with golden tassels. Beyond the columns, the entrance hall widened. Two staircases looped around the sides of the hall. Corridors broke away on both floors, to the right and to the left.

  A male servant came from the right hall. He was dressed in a beige robe and sandals. White tufts of hair stuck up around his ears, but the top of his head was bald and shone beneath the light from the chandelier. “Lord Tala.” The man stopped and bowed deeply.

  “Dion. Please inform my cousin that I am here.”

  Dion looked at Caleb. “His lordship is currently in a meeting. But I will let him know when he is done. Is there anything else I can do for you?”

  “No. You are dismissed.”

  “Yes, milord.” Dion bowed again then turned and went toward the left hall.

  Caleb headed up the stairs to the right, with Nierne close behind. He led the way down the hall. They passed more guards and servants as they made their way to his rooms. The guards bowed, and the servants kept their faces down and continued with their cleaning. Caleb ignored both, eager to reach his quarters. His boots clapped against the marble floor. Nierne followed, her footsteps fainter than his own.

  Finally he stopped before a door and opened it. A smaller entryway greeted him, with a narrow table set against the cream-colored wall. A golden mirror hung above it. Two rooms broke away from the entryway: to his right was a sitting room with potted plants, scarlet sitting pillows, a low table, and a long gold tasseled rug. To his left, his bedchamber.

  He turned and found Nierne standing inside the doorway, her hands gripped across her body, her eyes darting furtively around.

  He waved to her. “Please, come in. Make yourself comfortable.”

  Nierne stepped inside, still gripping her arms.

  Caleb walked around her and shut the door. The soft thud made her jump. He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’re safe here.”

  She seemed to think otherwise.

  Caleb shook his head and headed into his bedchamber. The room was double the size of his sitting room. A large bed the length and width of at least two men sat in the middle. It was surrounded by translucent gauze that hung from a silver ring in the ceiling, cascading around the bed in a shimmery white curtain. A lamp had been lit and placed on the wooden chest set up against the far wall. A full-length mirror hung beside it. In the other corner stood a changing screen, painted with a scene from the Battle of Hont. A small table stood next to it, with a ceramic bowl on top.

  Caleb could feel the dust and dirt from the long trip flake across his skin. He moved toward the chest. Hopefully he could wash up before Corin called for him.

  He flipped open the top, rummaged around, and found a long dry linen cloth. He straightened and started across the bedroom. Nierne still stood in the doorway. Caleb stopped. Once again she reminded him of a small desert hare. Her arms were tightly wrapped around her middle, her eyes following his every move. Fear radiated from her.

  Ah, Caleb, you selfish, selfish man! You didn’t even think about her! he chided himself. “Nierne,” he said, walking toward her. She watched him warily. “Would you like to bathe?”

  Her mouth dropped open in surprise. “B-bathe?”

  “Yes. It’s been a long trip, and I’m sure you would like to wash up.”

  Nierne opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. Two bright pink spots appeared
on her cheeks.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.” He walked past her toward a small gold cord that hung near the door and gave it two tugs. “The palace has a couple of large pools you are welcome to use.”

  Her eyes went wide again, and Nierne shook her head. “No, no pools. Just a pitcher of water will be fine.”

  Caleb frowned. “Are you sure?” He could think of nothing nicer than a large warm pool to bathe in after that long trip.

  Nierne shook her head. “No, just a pitcher. It’s what I’m used to.” She gave him a weak smile.

  He raised an eyebrow. “So be it.”

  A knock sounded at the door. Caleb turned and opened it. An older woman stood in the hallway, dressed in a short white tunic with a red sash wrapped around her waist. Her hair hung in a long braid down her back. She bowed, never raising her eyes to Caleb’s face.

  “Please bring a fresh white tunic and a pitcher of water. And—” Caleb leaned toward the woman— “a vial of bathing oil. Something…floral.”

  The woman bowed lower. “Yes, milord.”

  Caleb took a step back and shut the door. He turned to Nierne. “A servant will be bringing fresh clothes and a pitcher of water, along with some ointment. Feel free to use my room to bathe and change.” He motioned toward his bedchamber. “And take all the time you need. I will be doing the same, but in one of our pools.” He lifted the white linen draped across his arm.

  Nierne nodded once, her arms still clasped tightly together.

  Caleb sighed and turned back toward his bedchamber. He crossed the room toward a smaller door to the side. He cast one last glance back at Nierne before opening the door. She hadn’t moved yet. He hoped she would relax once he was gone.

  He walked out into a narrow hallway and shut the door behind him. Down the corridor was a large spacious bathing room filled with a tepid pool and steam room. Just what he needed.

  • • •

  Nierne watched Caleb cross the room and leave through the door on the other side of his bed. The door shut with a muffled thud.

  She glanced around, feeling like a mouse in a lion’s den. Yes, Caleb Tala had changed. He wasn’t the same man she had met up north. Or so he had led her to believe.

  But she wasn’t convinced.

  She had watched how the guards and servants had kowtowed in his presence. Their behavior reinforced the fact that the man she had ridden with to Azar was not just any man, but second only to the Lord of Temanin himself.

  Caleb was a prince and a member of the Tala family, a family known for their carnal appetites. Being back in his surroundings might just make him revert back to the man she remembered months ago: a cold-hearted assassin.

  But what about his interest in the Word? Nierne rubbed her arms and stared at the corner of the table in the entryway. She remembered the way he’d looked in Lady Meira’s library, his dark eyes darting across the pages of the Book of Beginnings. He had wanted to know everything about the Word. Such hunger couldn’t be faked, could it? His questions had caught her by surprise back then, and he still puzzled her now. Could such a man possibly be interested in becoming a Follower?

  Anyone can follow Me.

  Nierne blushed and dropped her hands. Who was she to choose who could become a Follower or not? After all, she was the daughter of a—

  Knock, knock.

  Nierne stumbled back and stared at the door.

  Knock, knock.

  She had forgotten about the servant Caleb had ordered. Nierne took two deep breaths and answered the door.

  The servant from earlier stood on the other side. “My…lord?” she said, her head coming up from a bow. A white tunic was draped over her arm. She held a small glass vial in one hand and a ceramic pitcher in the other.

  Nierne stared at her, unsure of what to do.

  The woman straightened. “I believe Lord Tala ordered these for you,” she said, her tone haughty now.

  Nierne blinked and took a step back. The woman entered and placed them on the table. Then she turned and walked out. Nierne shut the door behind her.

  I don’t belong here. She felt it with every fiber of her being. She belonged in the Monastery, not in some palace. She was a scribe, not a servant girl. And she was tired of the looks and perceived ideas from others, that she and Caleb— Her face warmed, and she closed her eyes. “What a mess.”

  But she couldn’t go back, not yet. She needed Rowen. The question was how she was going to find her. The Temanin Empire stretched from the Ari Mountains all the way down to the Hont coast. That was a lot of land to cover. Of course, that also assumed Drake was still in Temanin with Rowen. And that Rowen was even still alive.

  Nierne opened her eyes and stared in the mirror that hung over the table. Her hair had grown longer now and curled past her shoulders. But it was still the same vibrant red, just like her mother’s. The stained shirt she wore hung loose on her body, and dirt was smudged across her cheeks and nose.

  Nierne looked away. Nothing, nothing had worked out the way it should have. Father Reth should have been the one to find Rowen. Had that happened, right now they would be traveling back to Thyra along the road through the Ari Mountains. Or maybe they would already be in Thyra, and whatever power Rowen possessed would have already destroyed the Shadonae.

  And she wouldn’t be here, in Caleb Tala’s room, in the middle of Temanin.

  Blood pounded inside her veins, and restlessness filled her being. Nierne paced the small entryway, back and forth, her hands clenched. She needed to do something. But what?

  She grabbed the pitcher, vial, and tunic the servant had left on the table. Might as well bathe before Caleb came back.

  Nierne walked into Caleb’s bedchamber. The hair rose along her arms and neck. She slowed to a stop and looked around, her eyes lingering on the bed in the middle of the room. Suddenly she felt like she was intruding on something intimate. She almost turned back to the entryway, but then saw the changing screen and a small table with a bowl in the corner.

  Nierne scurried toward the changing screen, bypassing the bed. She hung the tunic on the corner of the screen and poured water from the pitcher into the bowl on the table. She placed the pitcher down and held the vial to her face, popped off the top, and sniffed.

  Roses. It smelled like the roses Father Karl had grown in the prayer garden back at the Monastery. Just…sweeter. Nierne frowned. Why had the servant brought this particular ointment?

  Still frowning, and after checking behind her, Nierne pulled the screen across the table and stripped off her soiled clothes. She rubbed down with water, then the ointment, alert for any sound indicating Caleb had come back. She washed her hair, scrubbing her scalp, for one brief moment enjoying the pleasure of washing up. The air began to smell like the rose ointment.

  Back at the Monastery, they used only simple soap made of tallow and ash, nothing like this sweet oil. An image popped into her mind: Father Karl dressed in his brown monastery robes, his arms crossed and his lips turned down, smelling like one of his roses. Nierne stopped, and a smile slowly spread across her face. Father Karl would do the humblest work of a scribe before that would ever happen. Her smile faded, and she rinsed off.

  Father Karl was most likely dead. Just like Father Reth and all the others.

  She picked up her undergarments. They were dusty and in bad need of washing. She hesitated. If she washed them, then she would have nothing to wear until they dried. Nierne looked behind her then back at the bowl. With a quick thrust, she dunked the clothes into the scented water and quickly washed them. She wrung them out and hung them on the screen to dry.

  But she was naked now. Nierne looked around the screen, toward the door Caleb had disappeared behind almost a half hour ago. Her fingers curled along the edge of the canvas, her heart now pounding. She was sure he would walk in at any moment.

  When she couldn’t wait any longer, Nierne pulled the damp clothes on, then the clean linen tunic. The desert air left the bedroom feeling warm, for once something
Nierne was thankful for. She cleaned up the spilled water from the floor and table and moved the screen back to its place. Unsure of where to put her soiled clothes, she dumped them next to the table, then proceeded to use her fingers to comb her hair. She didn’t dare look at the mirror that stood against the far wall.

  Minutes ticked by. After combing her hair, Nierne fiddled with her fingers, unsure of what to do next. She stared at the door Caleb had left through. The door moved. Nierne froze.

  "…I’m not interested, Ailis.” Caleb stepped into the room. A young woman followed him inside.

  Nierne ducked behind the screen so they couldn’t see her. Crackers! What was she supposed to do now?

  “How can you say that?” the woman said. “You’ve been away for months. And no one would say where you went.”

  Caleb laughed. “That’s because no one knew. Top secret. Not that forbidding information ever stopped you from finding out.”

  “I missed you.” The woman’s tone changed. “It wasn’t the same here without you.”

  A weird, twisting feeling filled Nierne’s gut. She stared at the screen she hid behind. Slowly, she tilted her head until she could see past the canvas.

  Blood rushed to her face, drowning out the woman’s voice.

  Caleb stood across the room, beyond the bed, near the door that he and the woman had first entered through. His hair was wet and swept back. A single long white linen was wrapped around his middle, causing his skin to appear even darker. She could see every curve of every muscle as he moved.

  A beautiful woman stood in front of him: tall and lean, with long dark hair that reached almost to her waist. The long, sleeveless blue tunic she wore accentuated her body, which was shapely indeed. Silver bangles moved along her arms. She was everything Nierne was not.

  And for a split second, Nierne wondered why she cared.

  “Is it another woman?” Ailis slowly looked around the room with a smirk on her face. Her gaze moved toward Nierne. Nierne ducked her face back behind the screen, but not before she saw the look of surprise on the woman’s face. “Who is that?”