Hush, now. She’s only doing her job.
“Thank you, ma’am,” Eledis rasped. “I’ll do that. Please keep me updated on the investigation.”
She saluted, and Eledis wearily shuffled into the palace. The formal dining hall wasn’t far from the ruined hall of worship, so his trip was rather short, a pleasant turn of events for once this day. His route intentionally avoided the scene of disaster. The fire had been so unanticipated Eledis had lost any sense of control for a brief span of time. He couldn’t dwell on the unexpected sense of helplessness.
The dining hall bustled with activity. Tables and chairs had been pushed against the walls to make room for lines of thin bedrolls and blankets. A number of healers, both Udulian humans and Esela from Da’kul, treated soot-covered men and women, some sitting when they could and others lying down.
Eledis found an empty chair, ready to wait his turn, but as soon as he’d settled, his hands began to uncontrollably shake and his throat closed, eyes burning. Pressing the traitor hands to his thighs, he closed his eyes, the only way he could hope to keep tears from falling.
“What you feel isn’t weakness. It’s your body’s natural reaction to shock.”
Eledis’ head jerked up. Kheled stood over him, the Eselan’s typically biting gaze softened at his discomfiture.
“How are you alive?!” he gasped. “I saw a bottle hit you! You went up in flames!”
Coughs wracked Eledis’ chest, and he doubled over.
“Let’s get you looked at, old man.”
When Eledis could breathe again, Kheled handed him a mug of water. He gratefully accepted, downing it within seconds.
“I need you to breathe deeply,” Kheled said. “If we get enough clean air in you, the coughing should stop.”
Eledis inhaled and held it before allowing the air to rush through his nose.
“You didn’t answer the question,” he rasped. “How are you alive? How aren’t you burned?”
“You’re lucky only your lungs plague you, Chief Minister. Many of those waiting for a healer’s touch suffer from severe lacerations and slashes, and trust me, you wouldn’t want to view those afflicted by liquid fire.” Kheled met his eyes. “We moved them to another room to avoid further traumatizing the other guests.
“Have you considered how this disaster will reflect on your grandson? You’ll have your hands full with spinning this investiture tale. How will you twist it so our new King’s reign hasn’t begun with fire and death?”
Eledis pursed his lips. Much as he hated to admit it, the Eselan was correct. This unmitigated catastrophe would require the entirety of his political savvy if they wished to start the new rule of law on the right foot. He’d need to work quickly before rumors uncontrollably spread. Given that, he didn’t have time to uncover the truth behind what he’d seen in the hall of worship.
“Don’t think I’ll forget this,” Eledis hissed. “I will eventually figure you out!”
“I’m sure,” Kheled said, lips curling.
Before Eledis could scathingly retort, a hush fell over the dining hall save for the clack of wood on tile. From the far side of the room, Raimie limped toward them, ash dusting his hair and face. The white particles ruined whatever Ring had done to improve his countenance. His pale skin and the contrasting web of blue beneath his cheeks were revealed for all to see. He leaned so heavily on his crutch Eledis was worried it might snap from the pressure.
“Is everyone all right?” he wheezed into the silence, genuine concern carried on every syllable.
Eledis almost laughed aloud, covering it with a cough at the last minute. Of all the people gathered to see a healer, Raimie needed one the most.
For some reason, no one else seemed to share his amusement. Wide eyes stared at the kid with something bordering on awe.
Kheled trotted forward to rescue his friend, helping him to a chair. Immediately, the Eselan had his hands on Raimie, the back of one going to the kid’s forehead, the other to his injured leg. Kheled’s strained voice rose in volume, and as if prompted by the noise, the dining hall filled with murmured conversation once more.
Curious, Eledis sidled closer to the two young people in the hopes he could catch their conversation.
“-needed to see what remained for myself!” Raimie answered Kheled’s question. “I’m amazed they saved as much as they did. I honestly thought the hall of worship would be a smoldering ruin by day’s end.”
“You should have stayed with the group!” Kheled growled. “I went looking for you after I’d finished pulling the wounded from the flames. You were nowhere to be found!”
“What was I supposed to do? Let the Enforcer who started the fire go unchecked?” Raimie asked.
Enforcer? One of Doldimar’s top lieutenants had been on palace grounds? Where was he?
“Did you kill him?” Kheled asked while he wrapped a blanket around Raimie. “Take it,” he continued at the kid’s weak indignation. “You shiver like a leaf. How you’re not out cold is beyond me.”
Raimie made a face. “Yes, healer,” he groaned. “The Enforcer’s alive, well, and leading us to Doldimar. I destroyed his Daevetch splinter, however, so that should make you happy.”
So, Raimie had no proof of this ‘Enforcer’s’ existence.
“Which way did he go?” Kheled asked. “Maybe I can catch up before-”
“Khel, one of the Hand is managing it,” Raimie interrupted. “Tracking the Enforcer was a last-minute idea anyway. I need you here, helping me with the real plan.”
The ‘plan’ was probably in reference to Raimie and Kheled’s ridiculous belief Doldimar would eventually return to destroy them. Eledis thought the idea increasingly unbelievable as the years passed. At the time of his disappearance, Doldimar had possessed more than enough strength to wipe them out. Given enough years, Raimie and his armies could have chipped at the enemy's overwhelming numbers until the kid held the upper hand, but he’d insisted on bringing the game to an early conclusion by attacking Uduli. The Dark Lord could easily have countered such a move, but he’d inexplicably allowed Raimie to capture Auden’s capital.
When Uduli changed hands, Doldimar presumably claimed access to the same number of Kiraak as he had before Raimie’s assumption of control. If he’d immediately attacked while the kingdom was in disarray, the Dark Lord would have, again, crushed them like bugs, but every year, the people of Auden gained strength. Eledis thought it unlikely Doldimar would strike now that his former subjects would fight tooth and nail for the taste of freedom they’d experienced.
“Did you make your visit to the hall of worship after the Enforcer detour?” Kheled asked.
Raimie shook his head. “Kaedesa caught me after that. We talked.”
Eledis went very still. His heart thrummed in his chest, and short, hollow breaths flicked through his nostrils.
“Did you tell her about Ren?” Kheled asked.
“She made me,” Raimie grimaced.
And?!
“What did she say?” Kheled asked.
“She broke the engagement. I’m free, Khel!”
The room’s motion slowed as Eledis’ eyes widened. Forgetting to breathe, he scanned faces and failed to find the one he sought. He drifted from the dining hall in a fog, feet tracing a familiar route until they stopped inside a long hall with a high ceiling and frescoes painted on the plastered walls. The glass doors in the far corner stood open, and Eledis floated onto the balcony with trepidation.
She leaned on the railing, back to him. A breeze swayed her hair, and even though he knew the sun reigned supreme in the sky, a mirage of her in a stunning gown, silhouetted by moonlight, filled his eyes. But no, she wore her typical jerkin, leggings, and boots outfit, and the sun beat down on her, sweat soaking the jerkin.
“I hear the wedding’s canceled,” he said.
“Mm,” Kaedesa hummed, “you were right. Marrying Raimie would be wrong.”
He waited for more, for some explanation, but was destined for di
sappointment.
“Does that mean you’ll soon depart for Daira?” he asked through a dry mouth.
“I think I’ll stay for the royal wedding sure to come, but after that, yes, it’s back to court,” Kaedesa replied.
No! You can’t go! I need you here!
“I suppose that means I won’t experience those promised meetings between Queen and Chief Minister,” Eledis said. “Does your engagement’s end suggest Auden should begin looking for other trade partners?”
Her shoulders shook, Eledis’ only clue she restrained laughter. Or maybe tears?
“The alliance is stronger than it ever was, Eledis,” she answered. “Now that I know Raimie doesn’t hate me as I feared, I’m more determined than ever for his infant kingdom to succeed. He’s a sweet kid.”
She faced him as the wind picked up, whipping her hair about her face, and Eledis’ breath caught.
“Don’t you worry.” She smiled beatifically. “We’ll have plenty of meetings still.”
Twitching, his lips tilted upward of their own volition, and Eledis suppressed a gasp. A genuine smile? After so many years? How was it she did this to him?
“How did you find me, Eledis?” Kaedesa asked. “Even I didn’t know I’d end up here. I was trying to get lost.”
He swallowed hard. “I don’t know,” he lied. “Maybe I wanted to get lost too.”
He joined her at the railing. From here, one could see Uduli in its entirety and even some of the plains which ringed the mountain. Far distant, haze obscured the mountain range which shielded the city from storms.
“What a beautiful view,” Eledis commented, leaning on the rail.
From the corner of his eye, he watched Kaedesa lean over as well. They silently enjoyed the view for what seemed mere seconds. He wanted it to last hours, for this moment to stay fixed forever in time. Kaedesa wouldn’t allow the fulfillment of his wish.
“I’m going to tell you a secret, Eledis, because I expect you’ll keep it,” she murmured, breaking the spell. “For some inexplicable reason, I know you’d never intentionally do me harm.”
“Never!” he exclaimed.
“That’s what I just said,” Kaedesa chuckled. She bit her lip, eyes growing distant. “I possess a secret affliction, an infirmity which plagues me with every passing day. You see, I have trouble remembering, well, everything,” she murmured. “I live only in today, my yesterdays wiped away when I sleep. As you can imagine, such a condition doesn’t wear well on a queen, so I’ve learned to adapt. In our time together, you may have seen me occasionally writing in journals? Those books are my memories, and I keep them close to my heart.”
She withdrew a slim leather-bound journal from beneath her jerkin’s collar.
“I record what I can during the day, setting aside the journals I believe to be most relevant for the next at its close. In the morning, I read them. Sometimes, memories return upon their revelation, but most often, I must trust what I scan from my journals is what occurred.
“Unfortunately, such a scheme has its downfalls. I constantly question whether my enemies have tampered with my writings, leading me to wonder if my ‘memories’ are true. In addition, keeping my memories in bound paper presents a host of added problems. Individual journals are lost, dropped in water, or otherwise destroyed. Those damaged never add up to a significant number, but loss of memory does occur.
“The reason I surrender such a sensitive secret is recently, I’ve become confident that, at some long-forgotten point, I knew Raimie, his father, and you. I must know how. I won’t ask Raimie. He’d never betray me, but I don’t want advice from me to be tainted by my secret. I can’t ask Aramar. No one's seen him for over two years. That leaves you. So, tell me, Eledis, am I wrong? Had we met before that shabby inn in Sev?”
Ah, ‘saya. If only you knew.
“Following our exile, the Ada’ir monarchy harbored the Audish royal family for generations,” Eledis told her. “Raimie, Aramar, and myself can be counted among those who, at one point, enjoyed your hospitality. In exchange for safe haven, we became your eyes and ears. Aramar served the Ada’ir monarchy’s Hand as spymaster, as I did before him. Raimie was in training for the role when we left Daira.
“Upon our disappearance, you made no mention of us. Ada’ir’s court must have assumed we’d earned your displeasure, angering you enough that you banished us. You were quite vindictive toward the beginning of your reign, Kaedesa. After our disgrace, your nobles acting as though we’d died, refusing to even mention us, came as no surprise to me. Their behavior had heavily factored into our plans, after all.”
The news didn’t seem to shock Kaedesa. If anything, she looked pleased with herself for recalling people of whom sleep should have erased.
“What happened?” she asked. “Why did you leave?”
“Circumstances changed.” Nylion became a problem. “We needed to disappear and couldn’t have you pursue your negligent spymaster.” Because if you did so, Nylion might wake. “Aramar and I knew of your malady.” Best not to mention Marcuset at this point. Aramar could take the hit for something in which he’d never participated. “We scoured every journal, removed every scrap of information concerning our family, and burned it all.” I’m so sorry.
If the first revelation had done nothing to her, the second ruffled Kaedesa’s composure.
“Is that why I wanted to murder you the first few times we met? Since Sev, I mean,” she asked.
No. “Yes.”
“What about Raimie? Did he participate in this violation?” Kaedesa asked.
“No. He wouldn’t have partaken even if we’d asked. He was very fond of his Auntie.” Eledis grimaced. “Besides, even if he’d joined in our desecration, Raimie endures his own unique set of problems, ones which would have temporarily concealed the act from him. He’d only recently have recalled it.”
“Interesting,” Kaedesa mused, desperately latching onto the potential subject change. “Two monarchs with memory problems have somehow gained power in their separate nations.”
“I never said he was cursed with memory problems,” Eledis contradicted her. “Just that he has a set of challenges.”
“I assume you won’t share what those are?” she asked.
Eledis shook his head. Kaedesa would understand. Revealing the secret of Nylion would be like presenting the bullet to assassinate Auden on a silver platter. Never mind that it would be a breach of trust, Eledis wouldn’t threaten the kingdom’s security in that way.
He’d answered her questions as truthfully as he could. He need only wait for her pronouncement. Years ago, he and Marcuset had betrayed her trust, burning away knowledge of dear friends and family. Would those actions ripple to the present to wreak their consequences?
“Did the need to disappear materialize because of a threat to your family?” Kaedesa asked.
“Yes! Most definitely, yes! We’d never have otherwise absconded.” Nylion continued to threaten them to this day.
“Then, I can’t fault you for what you did,” Kaedesa conceded. “Although, I wish you’d taken the journals with you rather than destroying them. That way I could read them, now that I know who you are to me.”
“There you go again, assuming the men in this family have brains,” Eledis scoffed.
Kaedesa giggled, covering it with one hand, and he found himself genuinely smiling once more. She knew. He’d no need to feign distance with her, and she didn’t blame him for the loss of memory.
“So, what were we back then? Monarch and vassal? Friends?” Kaedesa asked once the giggle subsided.
Such a good question. What were they? At one point, they may have been tightly entwined, but Eledis didn’t know if their former closeness held true to this day. He decided to give the most honest answer he could.
“The greatest of allies.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Emri and I, we did something foolish. You told me to take him straight to Uduli, but on our journey, we decided to detour to
Ranakova, a last hurrah between father and son before we sacrifice those roles for the world’s safety.
HE had been there. We knew something was wrong when sounds of festivity failed to greet us, but what we found… Oh, my love, I can’t bear to repeat it. Suffice it to say I’ve seen our future, and it is bleak.
Please, my love, abandon hope in your visions. Abandon the humans to their well-deserved suffering. Let me take you and Emri over the mountains the Matvai call home. Let’s run north, further than anyone’s gone before. Doldimar’s reach won’t extend that far, will it?
Ushering Raimie to bed had required far too much pleading, cajoling, and persuading, but Kheled had somehow managed it, the accomplishment made impressive by the sheer volume of people crying for help in the dining hall. The healer in Kheled was loath to abandon so many injured men and women. He couldn’t imagine what departing the room had done to his friend, a man who often times went out of his way to help complete strangers, but doing so had been absolutely necessary.
When Raimie had limped into the dining hall, Kheled had nearly lost his composure, both as a healer and as a friend. Raimie was quite possibly the most frustrating patient with whom he’d ever dealt. His friend not only refused to rest as his body required but held the power to ensure no one could compel such rest on him.
When he’d woken in Qena, Raimie had immediately ordered the march home to commence, pointedly ignoring Kheled’s angry protests. The Qenans had been quick to volunteer a wagon, and with that gesture, any support Kheled may have garnered from the soldiers for an imposed delay had quickly vanished.
Since his injury near the Qenan tear, Raimie had spent one day unconscious, a week and a half traveling, and four days in bed, so continually interrupted by last-minute changes to the investiture ceremony Kheled couldn’t, in good conscience, call it ‘resting’ as his friend could. And today had brought its own chaos
So, of course, Raimie looked worse than the day he’d nearly bled out, and of course, Kheled had experienced a minor panic attack in the dining hall. The first man to call him friend in centuries had wobbled on his crutch, the precursor to a bad fall, and his heart had stuttered and stopped.
A King's Caution (The Eternal War Book 2) Page 50
