by Ada Haynes
Duncan McLean looked at him suspiciously. “Are you behind all this, Ekbeth?”
Ekbeth shook his head. “No, someone else is. Shona came to me and asked me to bring a letter written by some mysterious person to the Aramalinyia, that’s all. I never met her before. Is Shona really a murderer?”
Duncan’s frown only increased. “Why do you want to know? What is she to you?”
Ekbeth looked around him. There were too many ears around them. “I’d rather not discuss this in the open. At least as long as the Aramalinyia has not made it official.”
The old man visibly wanted to know more, but he too knew his ways around the As’mirin. He finally shrugged and raised his hand in an invitation. “Come along to the McLeans’ place. We’ll be able to talk there.”
The invitation was unexpected. And Ekbeth knew it was going to generate more gossip than the confrontation between Duncan McLean and the Aramalinyia. The McLeans hated the Na Duibhnes and the Na Duibhnes hated the McLeans. They did not speak to each other. They certainly did not invite each other to their respective homes. It was a well-known fact. And all this because, thirty years ago, the betrothed of Kas’el, Ekbeth’s brother, had chosen to leave him for one of the McLeans’ sons.
At the time, Ekbeth had already been spending most of his time on the Other Side. He had just started his finance studies in an exclusive business school. But he had been there when Arkeri, Kas’el’s betrothed, had told them the news, just before she left the Na Duibhnes’ house.
Ekbeth vividly remembered everything she had accused Kas’el of—the forcing on her of unnatural acts, the beatings.
Ekbeth had not believed her at the time. None of the Na Duibhnes had. Why would Kas’el do that? They were not even married yet, and Arkeri was from a wealthy Aiarz’i family—a family that was also an important financial partner. Sure, this would have been an arranged marriage, not a love match, but still, Kas’el knew he had to show respect to his future wife. For the sake of the community.
The only thing Ekbeth had thought then was that the woman was lying to get rid of his brother. And Ekbeth had been as angered as the rest of the Na Duibhnes by the false accusations.
He had been, at the time, as determined as his uncle Es’ael to get the whole McLeans’ clan banished out of the Valley in retribution. He had been as outraged as Es’ael by the fact that the then Akeneires’el of the Na Duibhnes, Kas’el and Ekbeth’s father, had refused to bring this before the High Council.
He could remember how virulent he had been in arguing with his father about this.
Ekbeth shook his head. He knew better nowadays. They all knew now what a monster his brother had been under his pleasant mask. In the end, Kas’el had been punished for all his crimes.
Small consolation this had been for some of his victims, the ones who had survived him. Arkeri and her husband, Alasdair McLean, had been dead for years by that time. A car accident. The McLeans had accused Kas’el of having killed them, but nothing could be proven.
Ekbeth sighed. This was the past. Something both families would be better to forget.
But it was not the way of the As’mirin. The Na Duibhnes were too proud to make amends on behalf of a family member, no matter how bad his conduct had been. The McLeans, Duncan especially, still hated the Na Duibhnes for not making restitution.
Today, Duncan McLean was offering an opening to a possible reconciliation and damn if Ekbeth was going to reject it.
He bowed slightly to the older man and opened his arm. “After you.”
*
All the buildings of Kse’Annilis were badly in need of repair. But the McLeans’ house looked even more on the verge of collapse than any other. This was not so surprising when you knew it had been left empty for thirty years.
No matter how convinced the McLeans had been of Arkeri’s innocence, they had avoided the Valley all those years. Because no one could prevent an assassination attempt, and Duncan had known some of the Na Duibhnes would not hesitate to at least give it a try.
Ekbeth carefully went up the entrance stairs and around the entrance door, as it was so worn out that it could not fully open. The main hall was not in much better state, but it was obvious someone had tried to clean it up.
Duncan brought him to what apparently used to be a dining room. The whole McLean family was there. As it was a fast day, this choice surprised him a bit, until he noticed the mattresses on the floor. Apparently, the room was the safest one in the house and they had all decided to stay in there.
The hostility was palpable when they recognized him, but, after one sign of their leader, they returned their attention to their own activities.
Duncan McLean offered him a chair and sat himself opposite to him.
One of the McLeans challenged Ekbeth. “What’s brought you here, Lad? It’s a bit late for apologies.”
Ekbeth managed to remain stoic. The man who had spoken was older than he, but to be called a lad, like a young teenager…? And that deadly irony in the voice! He had had plenty of practice with that in his own family, though. And he knew the man. “No apologies, Kieran. Duncan invited me.”
Everyone looked at the older man, and he snorted. “True, but don’t gloat about it. I will never forgive your brother, Ekbeth. He killed my son and his wife. And we both know he was the one to steal Sally from us. I can only praise Ara that he didn’t kill her and we have her back.”
Ah—another of his brother’s crimes. There was the kidnapping of Sarah-Lysliana as a baby as well, of course. Alasdair and Arkeri’s second child. One of Kas’el’s crimes, of which Ekbeth really did not want to be reminded.
Ekbeth had sworn never to speak of it. He alone knew Kas’el had had every intention of harming that baby. Thankfully, Ekbeth and their other brother, Arkel, had discovered this and taken her from the monster before it was too late. They should have returned the baby to its parents. But Arkel had been against it. He had feared their brother would only kidnap the baby again. So they had found a foster family for her and had kept the fact that the baby was alive a secret. Ekbeth still thought it had been a mistake, but, well, at the time, he had not been the Akeneires’el. Arkel had been.
Ekbeth bowed his head. “Ara be praised.”
A loud snort answered him. Ekbeth realized Sarah-Lysliana McLean was sitting just next to him. The woman had the fierce temper of the McLeans.
Fate had led her to meet and fall in love with his cousin Lyrian. Lyrian had visited him quite often, bringing his wife with him. Ekbeth had liked the young woman from the beginning. They had been almost friends in the past. He had always known who she really was, of course. He had, after all, given the baby to her foster parents himself. Still, he liked her and she seemed to enjoy his company. But that was before…before she discovered who she really was, and the circumstances behind it. Before she decided to return to her family on the Other Side. Before Lyrian tried to kill her.
It suited Ekbeth fine that she kept her current thoughts to a snort.
Duncan McLean as well, apparently. “Let’s leave that discussion for another day. What is Shona to you, Ekbeth?”
“My question first. Is she a murderer?”
Duncan McLean scowled when he said, “That’s what I heard. That woman has a very bad reputation, Ekbeth. If only half of what I’ve heard is true, you would think twice about staying alone in the same room with her. I don’t want her in my clan and I don’t care what the Aramalinyia thinks about this!”
The statement was so forceful that Ekbeth knew there was more to it than Duncan McLean was saying. He needed to know more.
“Admit it—you won’t win that round, Duncan. The Aramalinyia is going to bring her to the Lake and name her. Then you won’t be able to reject her anymore!”
The old man’s eyes narrowed to a split. “And you find this vastly amusing, for sure! Damn it! Wait until my ancestors hear of it! They are going to howl for days!”
At last, Ekbeth partially understood what was going on.
<
br /> The Callers were able to transfer more than merely people from one place to the other. They also transferred anything that person was wearing, and, by extension, what he or she was holding, be it another person or an inanimate object. They were even able to transfer an inanimate object alone, if two callers were at the each end of the Call.
What they could not bring back to the Valley though was the Soul of a dead As’mir.
Most of the McLean family members had died in the Valley, but more than a few had died on the Other Side, in Scotland. Which meant that the errant soul was not offered Ara’s choice and stayed in the world of the living for eternity.
The McLeans’ castle was full of ghosts. Literally. Ghosts who, as far as Ekbeth could remember, expressed their opinion quite loudly.
Ekbeth had to smile. “I’d love to hear why they would be so outraged. Let me guess. A Scottish feud with her Clan?”
“Exactly! You don’t want to hear the details. Suffice it to say that one of her ancestors refused to marry her betrothed and went off with a big chunk of our treasure. When her father finally found her again, she was married to a powerful laird, so there was nothing he could do to bring her back. And needless to say, we never recovered the gold.”
So, thieving was apparently an inherited gene.
“And when exactly did this happen?”
Duncan McLean sighed. “Can’t remember the exact date, but somewhere in the fourteenth century AD, I think.”
Ekbeth had been prepared, but not enough. “That was six hundred years ago!”
“So what? The broad went away with our money! And defied her laird! He has cursed her descendants! So do we. There is nothing to forgive!”
The McLeans were ten times worse than his own family, as far as feuding was concerned! Still, he needed their help. So he tried to be his most charming self when he said, “Well, she’s still family, willing or not. I think one of you should be next to her bed right now, instead of hiding in here.”
At that Duncan spat on the floor. This was going to take time.
“He’s right, Gramp. I think I’ll go.”
Sarah-Lysliana’s intervention was as unexpected, as welcome. Duncan glared furiously at his grandchild. “I forbid you to go, Sally!”
She smiled at him. “Ekbeth is right, Gramp. The Aramalinyia has been clear about her will. That woman is part of our family, whether you want it or not. I’m actually curious to meet her.”
Ekbeth jumped to his feet. “Well, I think I’ll leave…”
Duncan McLean stopped him. “You did not answer my question, Ekbeth. What is she to you?”
Ekbeth sighed. “The Aramalinyia has decided I am to marry Shona.”
The whole room was very silent suddenly. And Duncan McLean’s face was showing more pity than anger now.
It was more than Ekbeth could bear.
He left the McLeans’ house, walking to his own place, his bed. Though he already knew sleep was not expecting him.
A murderer. Of all things…
17
The next time Shona woke up, night had fallen. Or someone had managed to darken the room. And there was something cold and moist on her head.
She had dreamed of images of her childhood, which normally made her sad. But right now she felt a bit better. Her limbs were not so heavy anymore. And her mouth did not feel so dry.
“Oyyad?”
Damn! Were they ever to let her alone?
She managed to turn her head. She could not make out the woman in the darkness of the room, but she was sure this was not the same person she had seen earlier.
As though reading her mind, the woman spoke. “They’ve gone to the temple, Oyyad. For the second night of prayers. I volunteered to stay with you. How are you feeling?”
Shattered. That was the only thing Shona could think of. Physically and psychically.
“I have some broth for you if you feel like eating. We are not supposed to eat before the end of the night, but the doctor said we could make an exception for you. Would you like some?”
Shona suddenly felt how thirsty she was. So she nodded, but then realized the woman could not see her movements in the dark.
She croaked a “yes.”
Clothes ruffled. At last alone. Even if probably not for long. She breathed deeply. Her ribs were still hurting, but less so than earlier.
Three days! She had probably spent that time in bed! Which somehow had been good for the physical pain. But what had happened in that clearing… She wished she could forget what the Ke’As’mirin had put her through.
Tears began slowly to flow along her cheeks. Only a few days ago, she’d been ready to follow Rose’s advice. Confront her past. She now knew how foolish the idea was.
The Ke’As’mirin had forced her mind open and dissected memory after memory. It had been pure torture. Shona had been confronted with a recent past that Keremli had done her best to erase. But that had not been the worst. No. The worst had been the happy memories, her childhood before her father’s death, the time with Yeshe and Sonam.
She had lost so much!
“Oyyad?” The woman had come back, Shona realized. She felt like screaming. She wanted to be left alone! With her pain. Instead she dried her face and tried to sit. The woman instantly came to her help, putting some pillows behind her back to support her.
Then she put a tray on Shona’s knees. “Do you need some help with the broth?”
Shona wished she could say no, but her hands were shaking badly. Her first attempt was disastrous. So she handed the spoon to the woman and let herself be fed.
The broth was delicious. And exactly what she needed. After several spoonsful, she realized she should not accept the food. There might be more drugs added to it. But then, she did not really have a choice. She needed the strength only food could provide. And she was just too weak right now to seek out her own meals.
“Oyyad? The Aramalinyia wants to know. Did the Ke’As’mirin give you a name?”
Shona frowned, not sure she’d understood correctly. A name? Then it came back to her. Those bloody ghosts had indeed said something before releasing her.
“Kimiel. I think they said Kimiel.”
A pause. Then the woman brought the spoon back to Shona’s lips.
“Is it important?”
A few spoonsful of broth passed her lips before she got an answer.
“That’s the name they’ve given you, Oyyad. After the ceremony at the Lake, that’s the name we’ll give you from now on.”
Shona only heard one thing. “What! That torture is not done yet?”
She heard a sigh. “Oyyad! You’ve put yourself through the worst part of it. Really! The Lake ceremony is just a formality.”
“What happens?”
The woman told her. It did sound rather innocent. A sort of baptism. “The Lake is where Ara lives. Or so we think. Putting yourself in the water is entering into contact with her. But it’s a formality really. Ara trusts our ancestors’ wisdom.”
What a load of bullshit. But the woman was kind, so Shona did not challenge her explanations.
Then she remembered. “I need to speak to Ekbeth.”
Another pause.
“The Akeneires’el of the Na Duibhnes is at the temple right now. But I’ll let him know. Do you want more broth?”
Shona was a bit confused by the long title. But then she remembered some explanations Keremli had given her. Ekbeth was merely a banker outside the Valley, albeit a powerful one, but here, he was top in the Valley hierarchy!
Not someone you referred to by using his first name.
Shona smiled—maybe for the first time since she came out of her spiritual experience.
“Oyyad?”
What did she want? Oh yes. “No thanks. It was very good, and I really appreciate your help. But I can’t take more right now.”
She yawned. Incredible! She’d been sleeping three days and still felt tired!
Damn! They’d put a sleeping drug in that
broth! She knew she should not have trusted them!
She barely felt it when they put her back in a sleeping position.
Thankfully this time there was no dream.
18
“Uncle? I need to talk to you.”
Ekbeth managed not to show his exasperation. The second day of prayer had just ended, the Na Duibhnes’ servants were waiting for him to check the last details of the coming event and, already, he was interrupted in his progress towards his house.
But it was his niece Alyasini who requested his attention this time.
He managed a smile. “I’m listening, Lyas.”
She looked nervously around her. “Not here, Uncle. In my rooms.”
More problems?
They entered the house together and he followed his niece to her own place, which was at the very far end inside the crater wall. So typical of her. As the daughter of the previous Akeneires’el, she could have asked for the second best view if she had wanted. But no—that was not her style.
The place was not so bad. When they had built Kse’Annilis, their ancestors had mastered some amazing technologies, one of them enabling them to capture and perpetually re-use sunlight. Sadly, this technology had been lost, but it was still functioning in the old buildings. There was no window in Alyasini’s room, yet it was lit brightly enough that no lamp was needed. Furthermore, Alyasini had done a very good job at decorating it. The furniture was a mix of traditional and Other Side furniture. He liked it.
Alyasini looked nervously around the room, then locked the door behind them.
“Lyas? What is happening?”
She signaled him to wait, then walked to her own bedroom and opened the door.
Another young woman entered and prostrated herself on the floor before he had time to see her face. Her long white hair was, thankfully, enough for him to know who it was. Only the Callers had such white hair. Even the very old, as the Aramalinyia, kept a subtle hue of their original family hair color. And there were only two Callers left in the Valley.
“Akalabeth! This is a nice surprise! Why so much formality? I’m your uncle, not a god. You can stand.”
