The Watchers in Exile

by Barbara V. Evers

  Samantha smiled at her mother. “Of course, you do, but I need specific details about what he’s learning through the connection.”

  “What do you want to know?” Kassa approached the map and looked at the area Samantha had marked with a yellow giraffe marker to represent Adana.

  “Physical characteristics of the land, the number of people with her, whether they have gone to the village or not.” She shrugged. “Basic details.”

  It all sounded innocent, but something about her daughter’s interest disturbed Kassa. Once she learned of Adana’s safety and approximate location, she should have left the keep and caught up with the queen. That was her place, not here. Had it been anyone else, she would confront them or give them a less responsible task, but this was her daughter, a high-ranking member of the Watchers who, technically, Kassa no longer commanded.

  Halar had suggested treating her as a daughter, not as a Watcher.

  She struggled to recall how. “Although those are important details, I’m concerned you’re focusing too much of your time on this rather than your regular duties.”

  “These are my duties.” Samantha’s voiced carried an edge to it. “Aren’t you concerned for Adana?”

  Halar interrupted before Kassa could reply. “We are, but the queen is with Montee and the rest of her honor guard. They will protect her.”

  “Which brings us to our concern,” Kassa interrupted before Halar could take a breath. “Why didn’t you join them? You know approximately where they are. You should have left once Kiffen found them. What plausible reason do you have for deserting your post?”

  Samantha opened her mouth to speak, but Kassa threw up a hand to stop her. “Don’t tell me you were concerned about me. That’s ludicrous, and you know it.” She crossed her arms. “Why are you really here?”

  To her surprise, Samantha turned on them, her body quaking. “Mother! When will I ever live up to your standards? I only wanted to be near you. It’s been three years.”

  Kassa stood frozen, unable to equate this quivering child with the woman she raised as a Watcher. The woman most trainees feared for her blunt words and cool demeanor.

  While she stood there, Halar took their daughter into his arms and hugged her. His hand caressed her hair the way he used to do when Samantha was a child. She had always run to him instead of her mother. Kassa knew she’d been hard on Samantha, but they had shared a different bond. The Watchers.

  Pulling back from his daughter, Halar looked into her eyes. “We know you’ve been separated a long time, but you are a woman, not a child, Samantha. You can’t let your emotions overrule your responsibilities.”

  “Ballene’s Fire! Don’t coddle her.” Kassa pushed her husband aside. “She’s not interested in me, she’s interested in Kiffen, and I want to know why.”

  Samantha whirled toward her mother, her face twisted in anger. “I’m trying to locate the queen, Mother, so I can get as far from you as possible. You should be happy I’m so concerned for Adana’s welfare. She’s the daughter you always wanted.”

  “Nonsense, and you know it.” Kassa stepped closer to her daughter, the air sparking between them. “You are pursuing Kiffen for some pathetic reason, and I want to know what it is.”

  The anger in Samantha’s face slid away, and her lips quirked up in a gloat. “You’re afraid I’ll ruin your lovely plans for the perfect kingdom, ruled by the perfect king and queen.”

  Kassa stepped back in surprise.

  “Watch out Mother. One of your plans might go awry.”

  “Samantha.” Halar’s face flushed red. “Do you hear yourself? Are you in love with King Kiffen?” His hands fell to his sides. “Or with the idea of power?”

  Samantha shrugged. “Neither of you understands how your actions and decisions affect others. You might want to ask yourselves how much power means to you before you dare ask me.” She turned on her heel and marched out of the room.

  * * *

  Just before sundown, Kiffen bounded up the stairs of the center tower. His mind swirled with ideas. The chambers below the keep were extensive, reaching beyond the borders of both kingdoms. He could bring forces in and out of the keep without Maligon’s knowledge, thanks to some forebear’s strategic planning. He thanked the Creator, again, for this wonderful advantage.

  His step was light when he entered the map room. Samantha straightened from perusing the charts to greet him. She looked different, a bit more vulnerable, and it took him a moment to realize why. Her hair tumbled over her shoulders instead of being bound into the unruly braid she never quite seemed to control. The setting sun shone through the high windows, glinting red in her curly, dark locks.

  She’s attractive, he told himself. There’s no harm in enjoying her presence. Not as long as I remain true to Adana.

  “Your Majesty, there you are. I had begun to think you were never going to return.” She walked over to him, the smile on her face lighting up her eyes. “I’ve been all over the keep looking for you.”

  “Why would you do that?” Kiffen ignored the burst of pleasure at her words. He moved to study the map, plotting in his mind the tunnel’s entrances.

  “You look very pleased. Have you received good news?”

  “Yes, I have.” He turned to her with excitement. “I’ve learned—”

  Simeon’s warning came back to him. “Tell no one about the tunnels, no matter how much you trust them. Only rulers and their closest advisors should know of this until the time is right. This information, leaked to the wrong person, can destroy our plans against Maligon.”

  “Uh, I’ve learned that…” He struggled to think of something to say. “That, uh, Adana is well. She is safe.”

  “So, you connected with Bai’dish? Wonderful. Did Kassa assist you?”

  Not sure how to deflect her questions, he shrugged and leaned over the map.

  Samantha backed away, the smile fading into a perplexed frown. “Kiffen? Did you connect with the giraffe?”

  He took a deep breath and straightened to look at her, choosing a spot above her head rather than admiring the way her hair fanned out from her head and framed her face in curls. “Not really. But each day, it gets easier to sense his presence through the connection.”

  “Of course.” She looked down at the map and traced her finger along the river near the marker for Adana’s location. “Well, I’m glad the link grows stronger. We need to discuss some strategies concerning the queen’s position.” She edged her finger closer to the town of Roshar. “Where is she?”

  Kiffen frowned and stared at Samantha. Just as he began to answer her, a sense of urgency and danger flowed through his bond with Bai’dish. His mouth turned dry as he saw an image of him walking quickly away from Samantha. He tried to study the map but could not ignore the giraffe’s presence in his mind. “We will discuss this later.” He turned to leave the room. “I seem to have forgotten a previous appointment.”

  Kiffen rushed down the stairs. How many times could he use the same excuse to escape Samantha’s company? Another image from Bai’dish showed him in his quarters, speaking to Kassa. The giraffe had shown him the entire room and then focused on the image of Kassa and the image of the door closing out anyone else. The direction was clearer than any other he had received through the link. Bai’dish could sense Samantha’s presence in the room, but the giraffe instructed him to seek out Kassa. It felt like an order, ramming into his mind, pounding the blood in his ears, and beading sweat on his brow. He must speak with Kassa, now.

  When he reached his chambers, Kiffen sent a page to find Kassa. As the boy scurried away, Kiffen’s body stiffened from a pronounced surge through the bond, the onslaught of another image—Samantha, looking evil and threatening.

  He swore and wiped his hand over his eyes, shame turning his arms cold. Had Adana sensed his physical attraction to the Watcher?

  He loved Adana.

  Samantha made him feel competent in this strange, new world. Adana would provide the same comfort i
f she were here, but she wasn’t. Surely, she understood his need for loyal support.

  Swift on these thoughts came an image from Bai’dish—Adana leaning in to listen to an attractive man, a smile curling her mouth upward, her eyes sparkling with laughter.

  He hated the man on sight, but the humor that trickled along the link told him this was made up to show him how he might feel if Adana relied on someone she found physically exciting. He had come to despise Pultarch, even though Adana was not attracted to him. How much more animosity would he feel for a man who really did charm Adana?

  As Kassa entered the room, Kiffen received another image from Bai’dish. A Watcher, tall and slim, with red-brown hair. She wore an insignia on her uniform, a brown giraffe surrounded by bushes. He thought it indicated a Watcher trained as a Strategist. Her face seemed familiar, but he couldn’t recall when, or if, he had seen her.

  The next image caused Kiffen to stumble and fall back on a chair. This same Watcher locked other Watchers in a dungeon cell. They huddled in the dim light, blindfolded, bruised, and bleeding.

  The anger rushing through the link was pure Adana.

  Behind this image, came more. He groaned trying to absorb it all. He saw Bai’dish leading Glume out of the village of Roshar, their shadows cast out long before them as they moved west. Then there was a flash of the two walking through the forest and arriving at the Border Keep. Next was the Empress Gabriella, dressed in a shift, her hair tangled and wild. She grabbed the bars of a darkened cell and glared through them at a man. Kiffen stared at the image, wondering who the man might be. Bai’dish returned an image of a face Kiffen only knew from sketches, Maligon.

  The image of Maligon faded away, and Sir Jerold stood before Empress Gabriella. Just before everything faded, Sir Jerold turned to look at Kiffen. He wore the crown of Belwyn on his head.

  The last image faded slowly, a question in the mood of the image. Did he know Jerold was Gabriella’s son? The parchment Simeon showed him in the tunnels included Sir Jerold’s true identity. Adana had learned of the secrets, too.

  He attempted to send confirmation of his understanding to her through Bai’dish. Thoughts were so much harder than showing her what he saw. He settled on an image of him nodding.

  Satisfaction trickled through the bond, and he felt her acceptance of his limited skills. Just before the connection weakened, an outpouring of love surrounded him. He settled back in his chair, comforted by the last message. Even though he couldn’t hold the bond any longer, he still felt her presence in that promise of love.

  Drained, Kiffen slumped forward but glanced up at the sound of movement in the room.

  Kassa stood before him, holding out a goblet. “You had a vision.” It was a statement, not a question. “Drink this. It will restore your energy.”

  He grasped the goblet between both hands.

  His body ached as if he’d run to Moniah and back. All he wanted to do was lie down and rest for a few days.

  He sipped. The wine sparkled along his tongue with a light touch of berry and something he couldn’t identify, a slight sweetness, but not overpowering.

  He looked with surprise at Kassa. “What is this?”

  “Part of my private stores. I added some honey to revive you and a few other herbs.” Kassa sat on a chair facing him. “So, what did Bai’dish show you?”

  Kiffen set the goblet on the table and leaned forward. “A Watcher. I’ve seen her before, but I don’t know her name or recall when I might have seen her. She was locking several Watchers into a dark cell.”

  A crease formed between Kassa’s brows.

  Watchers kept their emotions hidden when possible, but to maintain control, given this news, proved the strength of Kassa’s abilities. He admired her effort.

  “They were blindfolded and beaten.”

  “What did this Watcher look like?” Kassa’s voice remained calm and even, but a vein throbbed in her temple.

  “She had reddish brown hair and was taller than many of the Watchers I’ve met. I think she was Strategist rank. Her insignia was a brown giraffe surrounded by bushes.”

  Kassa nodded. “That would be a Strategist.” She thought for a moment. “Could you tell anything else about her or the Watchers she imprisoned?”

  Kiffen shook his head.

  “Taller than normal Strategist. I’ll discuss it with the other Watchers at the keep. Can you recall anything else about her?”

  Kiffen shook his head. “She looked capable. But the physical characteristics were hazy.”

  “Hmm, maybe Adana does not know her well. That might limit the suspects.” She sat back, her gaze transformed into a flat stare.

  Over the last few years, he’d learned to remain silent when she took this pose, but fear of forgetting everything forced him to interrupt her. “It might indicate my inability to handle the connection well.”

  She glanced up. “That’s true. Or it could be Adana’s inability. She’s been separated from Am’brosia for a long time. What else did she share with you?”

  “I believe Bai’dish and Glume are coming here.”

  She nodded. “Dangerous, but it makes sense. When?”

  He tried to recall the image, seeing the long shadows in front of the two, the rising sun at their backs. “They leave in the morning, I think. Or they left this morning.”

  The tilt of the woman’s head reminded Kiffen of the hawk others likened her to. At least this time it wasn’t aimed at him.

  “Can you try to contact Bai’dish, again? Get confirmation on the departure? We need to send out a party to escort them.”

  Kiffen took a deep breath. The link had weakened him, but he understood the need to know.

  After a few breaths, he thought Bai’dish’s name. The link reverberated with the giraffe’s pleased response, followed by concern. A quick image of Kiffen lying down rushed into his mind. He couldn’t help but smile at the idea of the giraffe playing nursemaid.

  Quickly, before he lost the energy to sustain the link, Kiffen sent the image of Glume and Bai’dish. He didn’t know how to visualize what he wanted, so he let the question settle in his mind. When do you leave?

  It worked. Bai’dish showed Glume packing, going to bed, and the two rising in the morning to depart. The image of Kiffen resting closed the link.

  He slumped further in the chair and accepted another glass of wine from Kassa. “They leave in the morning.”

  “Four, maybe five days journey, if they don’t encounter trouble,” Kassa said. “We should send a squad to meet them. We have no idea what they might find along the way.”

  “Agreed.”

  “Is there more?”

  “She showed me Empress Gabriella imprisoned. The man locking her in looked like Maligon. Then I saw Jerold of Belwyn. He wore a crown on his head.”

  Kassa nodded. “Simeon showed you the tunnels and the parchment today?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then you know what she’s telling you about Jerold.”

  Kiffen did, thankful to know Adana was learning these secrets, too. As Kassa left him to rest, he felt the connection to Bai’dish shimmer and evaporate. Kiffen sprawled on his bed. The afternoon’s invigorating discoveries felt distant and foreign after the drain of holding the link to Bai’dish for such a long period of time. He hoped having Bai’dish closer would help him develop strength in the connection.

  The one thing he kept from Kassa bothered him for a moment. Samantha. He had not mentioned Samantha to Kassa. He saw no reason to let her know about his attraction or that Adana sensed something.

  * * *

  Kassa returned to her quarters, stewing over the news. The knowledge that a Watcher had assisted Maligon burned in her belly.

  At least, Adana was aware of the secret parchments. Her image of Jerold verified that. Something in the way Kiffen described the young Belwyn prince led Kassa to believe Jerold was with Adana. She had not shared the impression with Kiffen because she sensed he was withholding information from
the link. Learning that could wait. The puzzle of the traitorous Watcher was more important than Kiffen’s secrets.

  * * *

  Samantha stalked along the corridor of the keep, annoyed by her mother’s summons. Somehow, she had thought her mother’s demotion from First Vision would remove her ability to command, yet here she was, answering her mother’s call again. She entered the hall on the first floor of the central tower. Several Watchers and First Soldiers stood before her mother. At least, she hadn’t been the only one summoned. Maybe this wasn’t another reprimand.

  Falling in line beside the Watchers, Samantha faced her mother, arms straight by her side, her face held in an impassive pose.

  Kassa glanced up from a parchment and noted Samantha’s presence. “The queen is sending Bai’dish to join us here. Glume will be with him. Since she can’t afford many soldiers to accompany them, you will meet them and bring them safely here.”

  Finally, an opening. Samantha could send word to Kalara of this move. Kiffen might not excel at his connection, but if they managed to kill Bai’dish, the giraffe’s death would devastate him. It might be the edge Maligon sent her here to discover.

  They would depart within the hour, so she had little time to send a message. She rushed to the stables and found the one blue-speckled bird hidden among the pigeons. Maligon had told her to look for this one; it was different enough for her to recognize it, but not enough for anyone else to wonder about its presence. She attached the note, dispatched the bird, then sprinkled a solution over the remaining birds’ food. Kalara had given it to her before she left Moniah to join Adana in Elwar. The drunkenberry concoction should confuse the rest of the birds, causing them to flee the keep.

  She ran up the stairs to retrieve her pack.

  * * * * *

  Chapter 16

  Pultarch rode in Maligon’s procession, amazed at the ground they covered as they traveled south. And without opposition. A week had passed since soldiers had dragged him into the man’s presence. He spent most evenings listening to Maligon’s stories of how Micah usurped his place next to Chiora as Husband King of Moniah. The Lord’s deformed arm and other stories of his suffering at the hands of Micah and Donel created a craving in Pultarch’s heart to avenge this mistreated soldier. The Lord’s favorite statement rang in his ears, “History is a falsehood written by the victors.”