“What’as gonna happin ta him?” the boy asked.
Sitrell slowly shook his head. “I don’t know.” He was worried that Yuiv would pose a follow up question that might reveal something of Jalek’s supernatural power, a question that could easily be overheard. To Sitrell’s relief, Yuiv remained silent, a curious expression showing on his face as he watched Jalek escorted out of the throne room.
Guilt?
A sense of being watched drew Sitrell’s attention back to the throne dais. Standing in front of the throne, her bodyguard talking to her, was Ashra. Their eyes met and she gave him a nod. Just a nod? Sirell made a show of turning his back on the princess.
“Come on, Yuiv,” Sitrell snapped as he strode away.
The other kings sent their assassins and champions against Yaokken, and he vanquished them, but not before he mutilated and tortured them.
Chapter 16
House Trauel
Yuiv shamelessly wolfed down a slice of hot, glazed ham dripping with juice that was both sweet and salty at the same time. As he finished loading his mouth with more than he could sensibly chew, he wiped his lips with the tattered sleeve of his right arm. Only once had he tasted meat so succulent, and that of course had been from the spoils of a raid. A noble family had left their mansion that night to participate in Lisidra’s Talanor festival, taking their entire household and many of their servants with them. The hams, which were being attended to by a harried and distracted cook, were likely intended for a feast to be had upon the noble family’s return. Instead, they fed Yuiv and his friends that night. He smiled at the memory. Though he had vowed to give up his thief’s life, Yuiv didn’t feel guilty about that particular incident. It had been one of his few truly happy memories growing up on the street. He and his friends had enjoyed a holiday feast together, and for one night, he had felt part of a family.
Yuiv sat at a polished wooden table, one large enough to accommodate thirty guests, in an enormous dining hall with a vaulted ceiling and a glittering chandelier. In between gluttonous bites of ham, he would tilt his head back and stare at the chandelier or gaze wide-eyed at beautiful scenescape paintings hanging on the walls. Never in his young life had Yuiv ever thought he would sit in a noble’s dining chamber eating their food, not by invitation anyway. Sitting diagonally from him at the head of the table was a slender woman with graying hair, brown eyes, and fine wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. She wore a modest, high-necked gown of emerald green and a silver locket around her neck. The woman was Sulia, Sitrell’s mother and Yuiv’s host for the evening while he awaited the conclusion of the war council and Sitrell’s return.
Yuiv had attended the first hour or so of that council in order to explain the details of Leadren’s opening of the Sentinel Gate. He was grateful when he was excused early on, for being in the presence of so much authority made him tense out of habit. Sitrell had arranged for a member of the Royal Guard to escort Yuiv to Sitrell’s own home with a message informing his mother that he had returned to the city, and that Yuiv was to be their guest that evening. At first Yuiv was apprehensive about how Sitrell’s mother would receive him, his experience with nobility having been thus far negative. To his relief, she had shown him a kindness that reminded him of how he was treated by the Istran priests of the Lisidra Mission.
Yuiv saw Sulia watching him and smiled. “This’as real good!” he declared around a mouth full of half-chewed ham.
Sulia smiled at him. “I am glad you like it.”
Yuiv threw back a pewter goblet of something that tasted faintly of cinnamon, draining the cup before slamming it down on the table and wiping his mouth, again with his soiled sleeve. He paused for a moment before unabashedly releasing a deep, echoing belch.
“More?” Sulia chuckled.
“Yeah!”
Sitrell’s mother picked up a small bell that was set on the table and rang it twice. A young maidservant with short curly brown hair promptly responded, curtseying while asking, “Yes, mistress?”
Sulia motioned to Yuiv, “Would you please bring our guest another helping?”
“Of which dish?”
Sulia stared at Yuiv’s three empty plates, each one of them licked clean. “All of them.”
“Yes, ma’am.” The maidservant dipped her head.
As she turned to carry out her orders, Yuiv caught her eyeing him, a disapproving look on her face. He met her stare and flashed his most obnoxious smile, making sure to conspicuously pick some ham out of the front of his teeth. The maidservant huffed in disgust and hurried away, her indignant reaction most satisfying.
“How old are you, Yuiv?” he heard Sulia ask.
Yuiv turned away from watching the maidservant leave to find an odd expression on Sulia’s face.
“Dunno,” he shrugged. “Matron sayed I’as fourteen.”
Yuiv saw something change in Sulia’s eyes at the mention of his age. He wasn’t sure what it was, but it looked like sadness? Sitrell looked at him that way too sometimes. Why was that?
“And you know nothing of your parents?”
Yuiv shook his head. “I’as brung ta the orphan home when I’as jes a baby.”
Sulia shook her head. “I do not understand how any mother could abandon her child.”
“Guess she hader reasn’s.” Yuiv tried to sound nonchalant; he not wanting Sulia to think the topic bothered him. Of course the truth was that he wondered the same things every single day of his young life. Who were his mother and father? What did they look like? Why hadn’t they wanted him? When he lived at the orphanage, he would often fantasize that his abandonment had been a horrible mistake and that someday his parents, who would really be nobles, would come to reclaim him and take them to their lavish manor. That dream had died soon after he had started living on the streets, much of his innocence stolen early by the cruel realities of life. He now knew the painful truth. No one had been searching for him. No one was coming for him. No one had wanted him.
“I am sorry.”
Yuiv averted his eyes. “It don’t matter.”
“So, how did you come to travel with Sitrell?” Sulia asked.
He hesitated for a moment, “In Lisidra.” He could see the curiosity burning in Sulia’s eyes. “But I’as aint supposta talk bout it. That’s what Sitrell sayed.”
“Oh, I see.” Sulia’s face took on a worried cast and she looked as if she were anxious to ask more.
An awkward moment prevailed, and Yuiv was grateful when the maidservant returned to the dining hall with a steaming tray of new food, which seemed to lighten his mood and revitalize their conversation. After clearing another helping of each course―it was his first real meal in weeks after all―they left the dining hall and moved to what Sulia called the sitting room. Like the rest of the manor, it was large and lavishly decorated with expensive-looking vases, more paintings of nature, and a beautiful woven tapestry on the wall opposite the entrance. True to its name, Yuiv found several plush chairs upholstered in red velvet and arranged in a circle around a low table. Without waiting for an invitation to sit, he bounded into the room and fell into a chair, relishing the softness of it with an ecstatic sigh.
“Comfortable?” Sulia asked with the same smile she’d worn while watching him eat.
“Feels good on my bum,” Yuiv said as he let the plush chair envelop him. “Been ridin a horse fer two weeks”
After indulging in the softness for several minutes, Yuiv stood, the new environs too novel for him to passively enjoy. A painting on the opposite wall grabbed his attention and he walked over to study it. It was the portrait of a man who appeared to be an older, bearded version of Sitrell. “This’as Sitrell’s papa?”
“Yes,” Sulia whispered.
After scrutinizing the painting for a long moment, Yuiv walked along the wall, examining various pieces of décor. He stopped when he came upon a wall mounted glass case containing three silver medals: two shaped like coins and one in the shape of a star.
“Wh
at’as these?” Yuiv’s voice was thick with wonder as he traced the glass with a finger. Had he been back in Lisidra, and still a thief, he surely would have taken them.
“Awards of commendation from the army,” Sulia answered. “They belong to Sitrell.”
Yuiv glanced at her. “Didee win em?”
“He earned them for outstanding performance and valor in serving his country.”
“Sitrell’as war hero?”
Sulia stood and walked to stand behind Yuiv. “He received the first silver medal for being the youngest soldier in four decades to be promoted to the rank of captain. The second was when he achieved the rank of commander, he being the youngest soldier to attain that rank in sixty years.”
“An the star?” Yuiv turned to look at Sulia, he noticing that she was wearing a proud smile.
“He received that medal three months ago for saving the south city from an Aukasian invasion they weren’t ready for.” Sulia’s face fell and Yuiv guessed there was something she was leaving out of that story. Was that when Sitrell’s father was killed?
“I’as didn’t knowed he’as sucha good soldier.” Yuiv turned again to marvel at the display.
Sulia chuckled. “And he would never tell you. When I insisted that we display these awards, he put up a fierce argument.”
Yuiv moved on to examining a series of oval shaped family portraits. One was a canvas painting of a young boy about Yuiv’s own age. He was wearing a boy’s version of a gentlemen’s suit and was smiling broadly. His hair was shorter and his nose a little differently shaped, but Yuiv couldn’t help but notice his own resemblance to the boy.
“Who’as that?” he pointed at the portrait.
“That’s Sitrell’s younger brother, Kyen.”
“Isee in the army too?”
“He died when he was thirteen.”
Yuiv turned from the painting in surprise. “What happened’d?”
“He drowned.”
“How?”
Sulia hesitated before explaining, “He and Sitrell were inseparable until about the time Sitrell started preparing to enter the Officer’s Academy.” She shook her head. “Sitrell began keeping company more with boys his own age and stopped taking Kyen with him on outings. Well, Kyen would often follow him anyway.” Sulia inhaled deeply. “One day, Sitrell and his friends were exploring the canal system, something we told him never to do, and Kyen followed. When Sitrell caught him, he was angry and sent Kyen home. Kyen didn’t know the canal system like Sitrell, and while trying to get out, he got lost and fell into the water.” Sulia’s jaw tightened. “It was four days before his body was found.”
“That’as sad,” Yuiv glanced again at the painting of the smiling boy.
“I don’t think Sitrell ever got over that, and since his father passed…” Sulia looked up at Yuiv and smiled. “Forgive me, Yuiv.”
“Is ok,” Yuiv smiled. “I’as sorry yer boy died an Sitrell’s papa too.”
“Thank you, Yuiv.”
Another servant, this one a man, entered the sitting room. “Mistress, your son has returned.”
Excited and relieved that Sitrell had finally come back, Yuiv whipped away from the wall exclaiming “Sitrell!” as the Amigus Commander walked into the room, once again clean shaven and dressed in an immaculate uniform of dark blue.
Sitrell entered the room to find his mother standing in the entrance, anxious to greet him.
“Hello, Mother.” He smiled.
She closed the distance between them and gripped him in a tight embrace. Sitrell winced as her hug pressed against his wound. She pulled away looking alarmed. “Are you injured?”
Sitrell gritted his teeth and forced a smile. “Yes, but it’s nothing serious.”
Sulia looked up into his face, studying his expression and running a hand through his hair. “What happened?”
Sitrell hesitated. “I cannot say much, but know that my force was attacked.”
“In Lisidra?” she asked, wide-eyed.
Sitrell nodded. “The enemy broke through the Sentinel Gate and wiped out my regiment. It was only with the aid of an Amigus sympathizer that I escaped.” Sitrell glanced at Yuiv who stood a pace behind his mother, an anxious look on his face. “And Yuiv,” he smiled at the boy. “He saved my life.”
Sulia turned to stare at Yuiv looking as though she were seeing him for the first time. “Creator, bless you,” she cried as she reached out and pulled Yuiv into an embrace. Sitrell chuckled to himself as he saw Yuiv’s shocked expression, his eyes pleading with Sitrell for rescue from what was obviously―for him―an alien experience.
“Mother, I have not come to stay,” Sitrell felt a pang of guilt as the words fell from his lips. Since Enot Trauel’s death, his mother had become neurotic about Sitrell’s safety. She had expressed relief when she learned he was to be stationed in Lisidra, his first assignment after his father’s death, as it was the furthest post away from the battlefront. This news, he knew, would not sit well with her.
His mother released Yuiv and turned to face him, worry returning to her face. “So soon? You have another assignment so soon?”
Sitrell nodded. “I have been assigned as an attaché to General Valek.”
“They are sending you to the front?” she asked, her voice quaking.
“Not to do any fighting,” Sitrell added. “I will be there in an advisory capacity only.”
His mother’s jaw tightened. “When do you deploy?”
Sitrell hesitated. “This evening.”
The look in his mother’s eyes was almost enough to make him return to the palace and accept the council’s initial judgment. No. I have to do this. I have to be there. Sitrell had argued fiercely in order to convince the council to allow him to join the defense force. Both Alderman Ekale and General Valek had at first refused, citing Sitrell’s ordeal and wound as cause for him to take an extended leave. He countered by lying about the seriousness of his injury and emphasized that he was the best choice to operate the counter measure as he was the one instructed personally by the man who gave it to them. Of course, he knew that someone else could just as easily work the device, but he had to be the one to do it, he needed to be at this battle.
A fanatical flame had rekindled within him and though he knew it was far from healthy, he let it burn. He had never really gotten his mind satisfied as to Taeborn’s Second Wonder, and the supernatural display of power he had witnessed two weeks ago had washed away his bitter atheism and awakened his old obsession. Perhaps when he was sixteen the danger hadn’t been real enough, after all, his father had interrupted his bar fight in order to rescue him. If his situation truly had to be life threatening, then what greater danger could he face than a foe of superior numbers armed with a virtually unstoppable weapon? Yes, this could work. It had to work. He had to know.
“I’as comin?” Yuiv asked.
“No,” he answered. “Your part in this is done.” Sitrell prayed that Yuiv wouldn’t bring up his mysterious ability to heal as justification to argue. To Sitrell’s relief, he didn’t. Apparently their unspoken agreement remained in force.
“Wha’as gonna happin to me now?”
“You will remain here in the city until Alderman Kaiden Ekale has an opportunity to meet with you, hear your side of the story in its entirety, and render judgment.”
“You sayed I’as not gonna go ta prisn!” Yuiv’s voice filled with panic.
Sitrell flashed what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I wouldn’t worry about it. At this stage, I believe the private hearing is just a formality.”
Yuiv nodded, not looking quite convinced. “Where’as I’as gonna stay?”
Sitrell nodded. “I’ve been giving that some thought.” He turned to his mother. “Mother, how would you feel if Yuiv stayed here while I am gone?” He hoped having Yuiv to care for would provide both comfort and a distraction. Had she noticed his resemblance to Kyen?
She stared at Yuiv for a moment and then smiled. “Of course.”
/> Yuiv beamed.
Why did that make him so happy? Sitrell had thought that maybe Yuiv would be uncomfortable staying with a noble family.
“But only on conditions,” his mother began, “Yuiv will need to attend school and church, and he is to obey the rules of our house: no drinking, smoking, or staying out to all hours.”
Sitrell’s mother dropped her eyes to Yuiv’s dirty, tattered clothes. “He will also need some new clothes, and”―she hesitated―“etiquette training.”
Sitrell chuckled. “Is that agreeable, Yuiv?”
Yuiv grinned and nodded.
“I have to pack my things.” Sitrell kissed his mother on the cheek before leaving the sitting room.
He entered a foyer with a beautiful grand staircase which he climbed. To his frustration, the ascent to the second story took an inordinate amount of time as he had to keep pausing in order to appease the pain of his wound. He hoped no servants caught sight of that. Upon reaching the second floor, he turned to his right and lurched down a long hallway, pausing as he passed his father’s study. He turned and studied the cherry-wood door. He hadn’t been inside that room since before his father died. Sitrell turned the knob, considering for a moment before he opened the door and walked in. The study was lined with shelves reaching almost to the ceiling and was rife with the musty smell of books. How Father had loved books.
On the wall to Sitrell’s right was a family portrait in which he was twelve and Kyen was still alive. Throbs of grief wrenched his heart as each object in the chamber called forth a flood of memories. It was too much. Sitrell started for the exit, but halted as something caught his attention. To the right of the study’s door a sword hung, mounted on the wall for display. It was a beautiful piece of craftsmanship, as much a work of art as any of the paintings on the manner walls. It’s intricately wired silver handle was capped by a pommel set with a small sapphire, and the blade had been forged from the finest steel. The cross guard was eight inches wide and engraved in the middle with the glyph of an owl―the symbol of Sitrell’s house.
Heroes of the Crystal Star (Valcoria Book 1) Page 19
