"Stop." Shon turned away. The scene moved with him. Chialao appeared in front of him, inches from his face.
"You do know who the father is." Chialao grinned, her smile too broad, the light in her eyes too yellow and the pupils too dark. Her breath was like ice. "Say it. Maybe it will help you understand."
"Go now!" Shon shouted. "Leave me." He took a step back. The ground gave way beneath him, and he was falling. Darkness swept up around him. He lunged out, reaching for something, anything!
He opened his eyes, panic jolting through him.
Warm sunlight bathed him, but his body was covered in cold sweat. Head spinning and ears ringing, Shon sat up and looked about, his tongue thick and his mouth dry.
Oaks and maples formed a semicircle around him. Sunlight poured through the broad branches, and a few yards to his right was a marker of some sort. This wood was familiar. Henilo. Yes. That was its name.
The chill of the nightmare and its vividness did not fade quickly, even beneath the pleasant warmth of the afternoon sun. The despair remained just as strong, clamped about his heart and lungs, making even a single breath ache. "Why did you let this happen, Elonumato?" he asked. "Why didn't I just stay dead?"
Songbirds sang in the branches above, unaware of his misery. There was nothing else to say. No answers. Vaguely now, he recalled walking until exhaustion had taken him. His pack at least was now beside him. A pair of gloves sat in the exterior pocket. He slid one over his wounded hand.
Slowly he rose to his feet and trudged through the trees toward the path, then followed it. Reaching a river, he drank. Though he was hungry, he only ate what he gathered from the side of the road, not wanting to open his bag and find all the items he had put together for himself and Amelia.
The imprint of the nightmares remained, thick and burning like hook-fanged spiderwebs. But while they remained constant, his feelings toward Amelia did not. He alternated between hating and loving her, wishing she had let him stay dead, resenting her for saving him, and longing to do something to prove he was worthy of new life. The jumbling of his thoughts absorbed everything.
"You are Shon, the son of the Libyshan Trapadonian." A husky male voice pierced Shon's thoughts.
He turned. A strange man stood behind him, wearing a long brown cloak, a black hood, and an expressionless black mask. He wore no weapons, and his clothing revealed no national or tribal affiliation. Only coarse cloth with uneven stitches and an unhemmed cloth sash.
"Who are you?" Shon asked.
"Who I am is not important. You've been missing far too long. Your brother and others are searching for you. I just started looking for you when I heard what happened with the elder commander."
Shon nodded slowly. He was fairly certain that this newcomer spoke with a Talbokian accent. Why would a Talbokian want to help him? "I am sorry to have put you out."
The stranger removed a small medicinal horn from his side, unfastened the marbled cork, and pressed it in Shon's hands. "Drink this. You're still regaining your strength. After what happened with the Levthro, well, it can't be making things better. Drink it all, my friend. The physician says that failure to take the proper precautions may result in your becoming delusional. You certainly look worse than before."
"Hm." Shon took the medicine gratefully. Where had the Talbokian seen him before? The bitter liquid slimed his tongue and throat. He squeezed his eyes shut, grimacing. "What is this?"
"They say the Levthro plants seeds of madness. Given all you have endured, it is little wonder you need something strong. It's an old Talbokian remedy. Though in the end, few things serve better than water." He removed a large waterskin from his back beneath his cloak. "Here. Drink this."
Shon wiped his mouth and accepted the waterskin. "Who are you? Are you a Talbokian?"
"It doesn't matter. What does is that you are needed in Telhetum." The man motioned for Shon to follow him down the path. "I do not wish to pressure you, but you have more power and authority within Telhetum than I. The king, queen, and your father departed to meet with their allies to determine what must be done with these Paras. Elder Commander Vorec intends to use this time to destroy the Third Nalenth."
Shon shook his head as he finished a long draw on the waterskin. "Vorec doesn't like her, but he wouldn't destroy—"
"He will kill her. Or at least allow her to be killed even if he does not do it himself. He believes it's the right thing to do." The stranger spoke calmly but quickly, clipping his words and avoiding looking at Shon. He stepped under a low overhanging branch as a horse nickered a short distance away.
"Vorec isn't the one who kills her though. He doesn't have light hair," Shon said. Even before Vorec's hair had turned mostly grey, it had been oak brown.
"You can't remember all of the alternatives that you saw within the Levthro, and from what I understand, it is possible for her to die sooner. It's just that the majority of times she dies, she does so in in the location the Levthro showed you. All that is certain is that she dies, and that could be today. The Third Nalenth's journey is littered with countless deaths."
"How do you know this?" Shon demanded.
The stranger paused as they reached a small clearing. A sleek dappled mare stood under the nearest oak, nibbling on the grass. "Because I was almost one of her deaths," the stranger said at last, his voice thick. "That is all I can say on the matter. Now here. Take my horse." He gestured to the mare. "Get to Telhetum and protect the Third Nalenth."
Shon's head spun, but he nodded. Shifting his pack, he easily mounted the horse and seized the reins. "Thank you."
"The path will join the main road in two miles. Don't follow any of the side paths, and then you'll know the rest of your way." The stranger pointed to the right. "Elonumato be with you, my friend."
Shon urged the horse forward, leaning against its neck. The mare responded with greater enthusiasm than he expected, seeming to know the way as she trotted, cantered, and galloped at intervals, mostly of her own accord. Shon's own strength waxed and waned with little warning, but as the sun beat upon him, the cold fog in his mind faded. Once they emerged from the forest, the opalescent walls glowed warm beneath the brilliant sun. Telhetum was only a few miles away.
Energy surged back into Shon's veins. He was going to save Amelia. Sitting up straighter, he urged the horse to go faster. Only upon reaching the city gates did he slow pace.
Streams of people made their way toward the Market Dais, a large platform used for livestock auctions in the center of the city. A large group had already assembled around the wooden construct. A tall wooden pole had been erected in the center. Amelia hung against it, suspended by her wrists but unconscious. Anger flashed through Shon again, choking him. He knotted his fists around the reins. How could Vorec dare to do this?
Shon leaped from the mare. Aching pain vibrated through his legs as he struck the ground, but he staggered forward.
"Are you all right, sir?" One of the townspeople steadied him.
"I'm fine." Shon swayed. The world settled though the ache continued.
"Commander." Vorec strode to the edge of the stage, his fists set against his belt. His expression suggested Shon's arrival was neither a surprise nor a concern. "I wondered when you would be arriving."
Shon braced himself on the stone halfway and drew in a deep breath. "I don't know what you think you're doing, sir, but I'm not going to let you hurt her. I won't leave her up there."
"I think at this point the greater concern is who is going to leave you here. You are clearly in need of medical attention." Vorec stepped down from the platform. As he reached Shon, he put his hand on his shoulder, concern wrinkling his features. "You're in bad shape, Shon. Skelt will fix you up. Then you should rest. Cobez and your brother and your fellow Ayamin will be relieved to know you're back and safe. At least relatively so."
"No. I'm fine." Shon pushed away Vorec's hand. Chialao's voice whispered in his mind again, speaking of death and loss and agony. He looked back at Amelia.
Already her wrists were bruised and bloodied from the leather thongs. "You have to stop this. I will fight you if I must."
"You won't be fighting anyone for a few days more," Vorec said. He spoke in a soothing tone as if correcting an errant child. "You should go home before you humiliate yourself."
"I don't care!" Shon shouted. "Let her go."
"Well the fact that you don't care is apparent and quite unlike you." Vorec continued to speak quietly as if he did not want the assembled crowd to hear. It had become so still though that aside from the rustling of garments and the occasional sneeze there was no other sound. "You are unwell. And there are important matters that I must tend to. If necessary, I will have you escorted back." He nodded to two of the Ayamin standing at attention at the sides of the platform. "Gergol and Mirar will see to it that you get the medical attention and rest you need if you decide not to go quietly."
Shon wiped his hand across his forehead. Beads of sweat rolled against his palm. If he looked anything like he felt, he was a sorry sight. Just days ago he could have beaten both Gergol and Mirar in a one-handed sparring match. Perhaps even on the rafters. "I don't need their help," he said. "I—"
"I know. I know exactly what you think. But let us not bring any more shame on the royal name than necessary. The blood child has brought more than enough of that already. I understand that this is a problematic situation for you, and I sympathize with your position. You are the next in line to wed her should her situation with her husband be resolved. And you have sworn to protect her."
"I have." The eyes of all assembled bored into him. Shon gripped the half wall for balance, the coarse stone grating against his left hand. Though he gripped with his right as well, he had no sensation within it.
"You are also sworn to uphold the king's laws and orders," Vorec said. When Shon gave a nod of assent, Vorec strode back onto the platform, his voice clearer and louder now. "And you were not here when the king gave his command that none except for the chosen guards and attendants were to visit the dungeon or care for the prisoners. Nor were you here when this woman abused her position as princess and violated the king's law, committing an act of treason against the family who took her in and the nation she claims to love. Then again, her claims of love are not worth much. Except when it comes to the skinchangers. Oddly enough, she insists she doesn't love them." Vorec removed a thick letter from beneath a white cloth on the table. "She is in collusion with them whether she will admit it or not. I offered her the opportunity to confess publicly. If she did so, then I would have confined her to her quarters to let the king determine how she must be dealt with."
"That is what should be done. She is still the princess," Shon said sharply.
"True, but matters of treason must be dealt with quickly and swiftly. That is our way when there is clear and convincing evidence." Vorec gripped Shon's shoulder. "Waiting on the king could be dangerous, but as you are the Trapadonian's son as well as her next in line, you may hear the charges. For all the errors of your youth, you remain an honorable man. More honorable than she deserves. So if you are willing to endure her callousness and indiscretion, I will let you decide what is to be done with her."
"Good." Shon nodded. A spasm of relief passed through him but it was crushed by darker thoughts. Vorec couldn't plan on making it this easy. The elder commander was cunning and tenacious. But Shon had to press forward in case by some miracle Vorec had chosen a kinder route. "Then release her."
"Only once you have heard the charges," Vorec said, his voice even louder this time.
More and more Libyshans had gathered around the dais. The low murmur now spread, buzzing in Shon's ears like flies.
Vorec remained facing Shon, his expression concerned as if this entire proceeding brought him no pleasure. "There have been concerns about this woman's loyalties. Her disappearance and reappearance as well as her marriage to at least one of the skinchangers has made her questionable at best. To help demonstrate her loyalty, the king ordered her to stay out of the dungeon. He made it clear that to violate this order would result in her being tried as a traitor. The king and queen had not been gone for more than a quarter of an hour before she came to me, asking for an exception. She made up some excuse about needing to see that the skinchangers were not harmed. Apparently they needed to be kept alive or so she said. Of course I explained the situation to her. But she defied me." Vorec shook his head, scoffing. "She wasn't even able to stay away from her skinchanging lovers for a full hour, Shon."
"You saw her enter the dungeon? You have witnesses?" Shon demanded. Anger spread throughout the assembled crowd, whispers rising.
"Even worse," Vorec said, holding up the letter. "I found evidence of her collusion with the skinchangers. This letter was written by the albino skinchanger. It answers questions she asked regarding their method of control, conquest, determinations of fitness to rule. This letter states that she is willing to cooperate with them if she is satisfied with their plans. Allow me to read the first lines." Vorec cleared his throat. "I am greatly pleased at your decision to join us, Amelia. It will be for the best as you will see. And while I know that there are yet some hesitations, after reading this, you will see that all of your concerns are laid to rest. Your questions, though numerous, deserve a response. I have taken it upon myself to answer your questions of conquest and government and will leave Naatos to answer the matters of family, children, and his nature. WroOth has added his thoughts at the end."
Shon snatched the letter away. Surely that was a lie! But the spider thin words spread over the page in tiny even lines confirmed what Vorec had said. A sick feeling spread in Shon's stomach. His knees threatened to buckle.
"According to this, Libysha would become a vassal state, denied all of its freedom, restructured and remade to better reflect what they consider to be an ideal nation." Vorec continued, his voice rising with strength. "Our lands would be divided among the other nations, and we as a people would cease to exist. Instead, we would be merged with the Redans and the Nalthumians and the Ulans. Fine neighbors and admirable allies, but they are separate from us as we are separate from them. And even worse they would merge us with the Talbokians and the Kiaros. Everyone! Those who have no land but who have tormented and persecuted our people would be given our land. The land of our fathers and mothers and forefathers and foremothers!"
Angry shouts rose from the crowd. Several punched at the air, shouting "never!" while others screamed "Kill the skinchangers!"
Vorec nodded, his jaw set. "All of the vassal states would be equal in size and only allowed to expand once they had demonstrated sufficient loyalty to the Paras and proper intent to correctly use the land. And this pinchat would sit on judgment over us as she bears children by the skinchangers. Creature children who will rule when they are of age."
The shouts and condemnation rose around Shon. But he barely heard it any longer. Bile tinged the back of his mouth. Everything Vorec said was true. All three of the brothers spoke as if she had agreed. There was mention of a brief period of separation to allow her to fully orient herself, but all of this demonstrated compliance. Total compliance and agreement. Libysha had no protection in this. While people would survive, the core of their identity would be lost.
Vorec's words stripped all but the most awful truths away. The images of the children in the Levthro and Amelia flashed through his mind once more. She did love Naatos. Those were Naatos's children. She had been sneaking down to see Naatos. She had refused to leave with him at the city gates because she wanted to be with Naatos. As his gaze darted up at her, Shon's stomach knotted to see the Neyeb betrothal necklace—the one that shared the connection with Naatos—still hung about her throat.
Shon thrust the letter back up to Vorec. "She broke the law. Let the law deal with her."
Vorec gave him an approving nod as he took the letter back. He turned it over in his hands. "Well spoken. You are not to be blamed for your feelings, young commander. She is a skilled seductress and manipul
ator. Who could have resisted given the same circumstances?"
The foul taste intensified in Shon's mouth. This was the woman he was going to go mad for? Hatred far stronger than the love he had once felt swelled within him, making the previous day's anger as limp as overboiled noodles. But he could not forget his duty as an Ayamin, though she was worse than the Paras. "Do not do more to her than the law requires," he said, fixing Vorec with a stern gaze. His voice was stronger now, harder. "The king must be the one to decide the final punishment when he returns."
"We are of the same mind," Vorec said.
As Shon started to leave, Vorec caught him by the arm. "A moment," Vorec said, a tinge of concern in his voice.
Shon turned. "What?"
Vorec stepped down from the platform and removed the glove from Shon's right hand. Blood soaked both glove and sleeve. Horrified gasps spread among those assembled. One of the women covered her mouth. Shon grimaced at the angry wounds along the back of his hand and fingers. The removal of the glove had torn some of them open again, resulting in fresh blood. Even so they still did not hurt.
Genuine sorrow rose in Vorec's face. He nodded slowly as if he understood those cuts. "Get these looked at immediately, commander. Those wounds at least might not be permanent."
Princess Reviled Page 20
